Saliva

You grab my wrist as I try to walk away

“Let’s talk like adults!” I hear you say

Grown up you may be, you scream like a kid

Who got one too few of his Christmas gifts

 

Every word is a breach of the peace

The bar was in hell, top level at least

I told you that I don’t like confrontation

You did jack shit with the information

 

You don’t have within you the will to change

Yet you want my open-mindedness all the same

An open mind is a two-way street

And sometimes you have to travel on broken feet

 

An honest conversation is not what this is

Breaking spirits is your favorite sin

Only one thing to do to end this friendship

That I gave so many years of my investment

 

Saliva in your face, running down your nose

And onto your lips, it drips so slow

The ultimate act of disrespect

Sadness in your eyes is what I detect

 

Goodbye, old friend, until next time

Which is hopefully never, that wish is mine

I finally turn and walk out of sight

And now I bid you the coldest of nights

 

My bed is warm, my food is hot

My home is here, with you it’s not

Maybe in the next life if it exists

We can start all over as innocent kids

Thanks For the Creative Fuel, Asshole

CHORUS 1

While you’re ruling everything in your castle

I’ve got to say

Thanks for the creative fuel, asshole!

VERSE 1

Every time you lay hands on me

Every time you haunt my TV

Every time my broken heart bleeds

You’re planting another artistic seed

I’m not in the business of staying down

I’m in the business of running the town

If it’s pen to paper or fist to chin

I’m already the favorite to win

CHORUS 2

While you’re making the whole world sick

I’ve got to say

Thanks for the creative fuel, dick!

VERSE 2

Art is a weapon and I’m the warrior, bitch

My words will leave you dead in the ditch

A traumatized mind and a body of bruises?

They mean nothing if my enemy loses

CHORUS 3

While you’re shopping for discount caskets

I’ve got to say

Thanks for the creative fuel, jackass!

VERSE 3

I don’t need a sword or automatic rifle

To leave my enemies in the highest pile

You do the work for me by being a clown

Lower than bathroom stains so brown

Lower than a sewer rat guzzling piss

Lower than the target you’re sure to miss

Lower than the ball bag of a venomous snake

I celebrate your doom with ice cream and cake

CHORUS 4

While you’re gifting me a number one hit

For every time you throw a fucking fit

For every throat that I want to slit

I’ve got to say

Thanks for the creative fuel, you little shit!

I’ve got to say one more time

Thanks for the creative fuel, asshole!