He shakes his dead rattle. Spittle on his bib. And I don't do the dishes. I throw them in the crib. . I'm eating you, I'm overfed. Your milk's in my mouth.
Hey you, you're way ahead of me. You're drunk on apathy, you burned right out. Hey you, you're just a cripple now. We sell for millions now, they sold you out.
He shakes his death rattle. Spittle on his bib. And I don't do dishes. I throw them in the crib. . I'm eating you. I'm overfed. Your milk's in my mouth.