I was a fax machine you dumped in the trash The place you go to trade gold for cash An aeroplane that stalled and crashed in a field in Eastern Europe I’m a jug of maple syrup If happiness is keepin' busy then I don't have enough to do If true happiness is found within then I need to stop depending on you I need to stop depending on you I heard happiness is being one of the gang I heard they found some in the Ocean at the End of the Lane I heard it's just a chemical made by your brain any time you hear your own voice I heard it's just a choice But if happiness is keepin' busy then I don't have enough to do If true happiness is found within then I need to stop depending on you I need to stop depending on you Truth commercials, they speak to me \because everybody thinks that we're both a joke And no matter what I try I can't love myself And no matter what they try people will smoke Until cigarettes get phased out by vape pens I am a fax machine in 1985 I have ink! I have paper! I'm alive! I heard happiness is something you use to survive it's affordable shoes in the appropriate size But if happiness is keepin' busy then I don't have enough to do If true happiness is found within then I need to stop depending on you I need to stop depending on you

Piles and piles of decaying bark Around a swimming pool with an inflatable shark It was covered in algae and full of brown leaves We had the sun in our eyes and a plan up our sleeves It was the middle of summer in Miami-Dade We were drunk off the air and electric lemonade Wwe had put on some weight but we were still pretty thin So we took off our shirts and dove right in There wasn't any chlorine The water still reddened our eyes You wiped the hair from my face I put my hand on your thigh The mosquitoes came out and the stars were close behind And you were looking at me like you could dictate my mind Then you took a deep breathe Drifted down to the floor And that morphine-like joy can't exist anymore But I think of it sometimes and it tears through my chest I loved you like the rich love the ideals of the West And I saw you outside the world market a couple weeks back Dandelions were growing in the sidewalk cracks And you passed over me like we had never met I’m not prepared to revisit that feeling just yet

I lost my friends when I lost 4G connection As I drag my feet through seasons of pointless repetition I still stretch and scratch and beg for your attention Like a certain businessman cock that blew up an American election I lost my home when you moved out of Virginia And now isolation is my honor code, and hate is my insignia My CDs all blare white noise and my records loop Rush Limbaugh The kindness that I held in my heart is now synthesized And all of the stories I hear around here are so sensationalized It's not Mozart trying to write a great symphony I just keep waiting for an epiphany I keep waiting for an epiphany that isn't ever gonna come I lost my faith in God long before I saw blood pools on BBC news I lost my faith in the state before I got to the drive-thru voting booth and saw a short list of options I'd rather not choose Why do I complain everyday when I have an easy life with very little to lose? Just a cat and a roof and the spare money I blow on booze It's not Mozart trying to write a great symphony I just keep waiting for an epiphany I keep waiting for an epiphany that isn't ever gonna come

Gene Simmons said, "Rock’s dead," As he wiped off his makeup and went to bed His purring axe bass, it was overfed And sleeping on a velvet rug by the fire Some say he lost his way Before he lip-synced on a float Thanksgiving day You claimed he stole GG Allin's crown away I claimed you were a god damn liar The newspaper headline was about a twitter spat we had And the story below the fold was about a suicide bomber at a mosque in Baghdad So you can try to call my attention from this shattered smartphone screen Rock Zeus has come to cash his check and piss on everything Kid Rock got jealous when he lost the Grammy to the latest trending Youtuber So he sent all the steel guitars away Inside of the big yellow uber And King Gene he was getting bold So he declared the death of rap As he stroked the bulging belly of the adspace in his lap He said, "You play with passion? Ha! That shit’s pathetic Yeah I'm in a band, it's only for the aesthetic." So you can try to call my attention from this shattered smartphone screen I'm the rock god dicktip Too cool to give a shit about anything

Everybody bow down to the king To the beautiful leader of the pack What are we going to do when the firmament cracks? Everybody bow down to the queen To the generous gypsy in the lake All her subjects do is take, take, take I used to meet her out where the black raspberries grow I would leave creamed corn at the base of her shrine But I haven't seen her there ever since they built the pipeline They built an ark and stuffed it full of hashtag activists 4chan fascists, and their meme farmers too There wasn't a dull moment in the stream of conversation As they sailed across a body by Beirut Then a creature with pink teeth cracked the deck from underneath And it gobbled up the migrants with a grin Then the city heard the news and all the anchors in grey suits Demanded answers on behalf of CNN I walk into the city today I don't like what I see There’s a vape shop where the farmer’s market used to be And they're building another Starbucks on a road that already has five If you can breathe you’re alive You're a bee in the hive Beehive It's been several hours since I made it out of bed But my apathy is a parasite and you know she must be fed We are the red blood cells pooling in pale foreheads We are the tombstones that were never above a body There is no body here

My love is your internet bill My love is the table that walks in right before the end of your shift My love is the Abrahamic god Cause it'll fuck up your life but it doesn't exist My love is the big bong’s booty hit My love is a dry contact lens lost in your eye My love is waking up without cigarettes My love is a morbid internet meme that refuses to die Death to codependency Death you mean the world to me Death to love

I poured kerosene all over my hand I put my hand to my brain so I could spread the flames You were there with at the two person coke party On the corner of euphoria and shame And I don't mean it when I say that I love you You woke up shirtless Your ribs looked like jaws rising from your liquid skin Then you got dressed and left to go fishing in the Draper Rd wishing fountain And when you used up the bubblegum in your bait box And the three pieces stuck to your shoe There was nothing left to do So you found your way back to me And the two person coke party part two And I don't mean it when I say that "I don't mean it when I say I love you” You and I are ammonia and bleach We're a tormented toxic tandem And if the fire marshall saw in either of our heads I think that she would throw a tantrum You were there with me at the two person coke party

You wrote a note and left it on my bedside table Under my reading lamp It didn't contain any letters except for your first name’s initial I found the door that led from my unmade bed to a bowl that held four Frosted Flakes And I tried to distract myself with something superficial I played Skyrim on the Xbox I watched Children's Hospital on Netflix I read Cosmo's 50 Tips for Having Great Sex And I tried not to think about you I found the black lighter you gave me In my corduroys when I did the laundry And I thought about how the color was not supposed to be unlucky I found the Camel 9's you like in the Snuffy's on Price’s Fork And I bought a pack and smoked half of it on a lengthy winter walk alone I listened to John Darnielle's anthology And I texted my friend Molly And I drank three cups of black tar coffee As I tried not to think about you I wrote poems about Rob Huebel And I tried to sit still and doodle But I saw the drawing you made of a cannabis hammock And of course it made me think of you I crawled under my wool blanket You always called it "super comfy" This was the first place you said you loved me I remember being silent several seconds after ‘Cause I didn't think that it was true And lately I've been silent in most social situations ‘Cause I've been thinking about you

I wake up in the morning And drink a jar of cinnamon So I can be a pessimist Before the day even begins I'll wear a piece of Dead's skull on a paperclip chain So it can hang next to my heart We used to live like cartoon characters Defying laws and borders But now I'm working at the courthouse selling Nazi jokes for quarters And waiting for God to make their way back from the toilet So they can grab that Xbox controller and press start And I think of your ghost anytime I hear windchimes And Mister Rogers said that it's okay to feel sad sometimes But lately all that I do is bring everybody down I was trying to find the proper phrasing to describe you in an epitaph But sunsets, you know they’re not as brilliant when you see them in a fucking photograph And there is not an Instagram or Snapchat filter that my thumb can throw on to bring the beauty back No there isn’t And I think of your ghost anytime I hear windchimes And Mister Rogers said that it's okay to feel sad sometimes But lately all that I do is bring everybody down I was always trying to explain myself But in the end we act out the Tower of Babel Though we dabbled in dark sorcery You would've wanted more for me

Like a fire by the rising tide Burn Like peroxide fizzing in your wounds Burn Like your freckled skin after hours in the garden Burn, burn, burn Like the letter you didn't want anyone to read Like the coal that turned Centralia into a ghost town Like the lawn-green sawgrass growing in the Florida Everglades Burn, burn, burn Like Scarecrow when he meets the wicked witch Like the coils in your friend Nik's vaporizer Like the CD in your disk drive when the download is complete Burn, burn, burn Like the vampire stumbling in the sunlight Like the wings worn by Icarus after he disobeys his Dad Like the paper that you rolled around a sweet gram of nutmeg Burn, burn, burn A block or two away from a blazing ball of gas A pebble on the turnpike around a larger sum of mass And the only purpose For my consciousness As far as I can tell Is so I can burn like I am the last tree in hell Like the Buddhist monk in an act of protest Like the candle defiantly flickering in the synagogue Like the Norwegian church way back in 1994 Burn

I was sunshine dancing at the speed of light With the poise and grace of an NSA satellite I was the last engineer on the nonsense train I had a gold membership in the NRA Imagine a styrofoam container; its worth is undeniable Common, inexpensive, the structure is reliable It can be grown by anyone, it blooms twice a year In fact, there’s a nursery full of them not two blocks from here In America, the free of the land and the brave So behave or be sent to one of our many crowded prisons Congressman call themselves patriots for spying on their citizens Frack it in your backyard, it's just the time we live in With political balls of yarn Styrofoam farms All the propaganda sold out and lost its charm But the disclaimer told me the country came to no harm So let’s all do our alma mater! This land is your land, this land is my land From the drunk dicktip at the frat house To the mangy homeless veteran From the man-made borders To the 150 countries that have been occupied by the United States military This land was made for you and me I see a warehouse of boxes full of "I Voted!" stickers The loan somebody needed for textbooks and iClickers It's American History X, not American Pickers Pop, you're racist when you're hungry, cut your shit, eat a Snickers I'm as worthless as the person singing protest songs No, I’m the rhetoric preached by some bigoted prick No I'm a dude trying to prove his masculinity by talking about his dick With a tart heart cold enough to make the snowfall stick Here in the Big Lick Here in the NRV My home, the source of all of Eden's envy The only thing I have to worry about is some poor kid going "crazy" And the folks at Cook Counseling acting apathetic and lazy And yeah, I know, it's fucked but it's true You'd think $30,000 a year would get you someone to talk to But I guess we'll buy the lie of higher education And work for forty years to afford houses our diplomas can be framed in This land is your land, this land is my land From the single mother at Broward College To the future president at Penn From the 1% / to the 1 in 5 millennials living in poverty This land was made for you and me