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To find the strength to carry on. |
|
You put marks into your body; |
|
You talk at length how you're alone, |
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And bitch at all the famous parties; |
|
Such a vision of pure loneliness! |
|
What an image you profess! |
|
Don't'cha turn and walk away 'cuz, |
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You're getting me depressed. |
|
In hopes you'd never be alone, |
|
You bore your cross around your body; |
|
It was in bad taste |
|
Immolent and gaudy; |
|
Boy, are you familiar? |
|
You're a vision of the loneliness, |
|
Add an image to the press: |
|
Ya turn and walk away, |
|
'cuz you're happily depressed; |
|
Inventing your own love loss, |
|
You invent your own success; |
|
I'm giving you a name boy, |
|
You're poor Role Martyr-x; |
|
You're a vision of our loneliness, |
|
Like the one that predecessed; |
|
Return in other ways, |
|
Unlimited in lowliness, |
|
Inventing your own love loss, |
|
You're a ringer for success, |
|
I hope you find your pain boy, |
|
Our poor Role Martyr-X: |
|
Get your gun, get it? |
|
Get your gun, get it! |
|
Get your gun, get it?? |
|
Get your gun and get away from me! |
|
Go! |
|
One takes one, get it? |
|
One makes one. |
|
Is it one hates one, |
|
Is it, one eats one to make a way for me; |
|
So were the visions of your loneliness, |
|
From an image on TV; |
|
Don't turn and walk away, |
|
Your depressed so happily, |
|
Inventing your own love lost, |
|
envisioning success; |
|
I hope you die of pain, our |
|
Poor Role Martyr-X: |
|
In a visionarial loneliness, |
|
There's a pattern that repeats; |
|
I really hate to say but, |
|
There's a similarity; |
|
Pontificating loves lost, |
|
He bitches when he's blessed; |
|
Your living is in vain boy, |
|
(Our poor Role Martyr-X); |
|
Since I am the most humble man in the world. |
