i'd shave my face into clark gable's
but i wouldn't be at my best
i do my talking at coffee tables
i like a setting sun in the west
don't you hate it when people are not what they sem
i love it when
water doesn't turn into steam

my breed is a melancholy one
i'm skinny and slow, with a hairy chest
i only want the hole in one
i like a setting sun in the west
don't you hate it when
you waste your brain playing games
i love it when
people sound like their names

i try to open my red blue eyes
always on time at least
i like my songs alphabetized
i like a rising sun in the east
i love it when
night falls on hoboken
it'll fall again
truer word was never spoken