there ain’t no peace, no guarantees
so much for hope, we all still bleed
no other way that i can see
looks like i’m back in therapy

how many chords? don’t know any
a line of shit that they’ll believe
this should make long beach scream for me
i sure belong in therapy

the fucking lights are back on me
won’t cut through drunken apathy
i’ll never be ready
we’ll skip the four, now one, two, three

the world is fucked let’s fucking burn it down tonight
a touch from you would make the crazy shit alright
i’m just like you, i’m broken, angry, spoiled and white
us vs. the universe, they should’ve called the motherfuckin’ fight

send in the clowns, you fucking win
i’m climbing out of the trash bin
at least i’m not on heroin
or would that be more genuine?

my life has brought me to my knees
picture of incompetency
i give it all away for free
didn’t learn much in therapy

i’m still in pieces, as you see
Still can’t lose my virginity
I get this burning when I pee
I fucking quit, sing it for me

the world is fucked let’s fucking burn it down tonight
a touch from you would make the crazy shit alright
i’m just like you, i’m broken, angry, spoiled and white
us vs. the universe, they should’ve called the motherfuckin’ fight

2012 scott crawford. fuck copyright.

Here’s why.

Always loved that ol’ gag.

Yep, I’m still alive.

No, I don’t have a lot to say at the moment.

Actually, it’s more like “I have a million things to say, but they’re all bottlenecked.”

Please stand by. I’ll say or do something, eventually.