My shotgun roman candle skull malfunctions as my interest declines
I stare at myself in the black mirror
Waiting for the white light reflection to appear
I fall asleep to the sound of a simulated life, in hopes that I'll awake to an advanced career
Write!
Convert the words to cash!
Record the sounds!
Who cares if they clash?!
I continue on the light box
I take health advice from a girl in gym shorts and a sports bra
No more food for the week
I glance across the street to see a man filming me with a camcorder
I play it up for the camera
I pull a twenty dollar bill out of my mouth and put it in a box labeled billionaire's pocket
Töte ihn schneller!
This one better be a bestseller!
I run around screaming and smoking a tangerine
I've invented a new publicity stunt
Oh, just drink me, please