Don't turn your nose up
And you're the gleam, yeah, of the great Utopia dream
I'm a phallus in pigtails, and there's blood on my nose
And you're sick from your ears, to the red parquet floor
And I know what a louse like me in his house could do for you
It must strain you to look down so far from your father's house
Where only killers scream
I got eyes in my backside, that see electric tomatoes
Well, you can if you need to, you won't be the first or last
Now, you could spend the morning walking with me, quite amazed
So now you could spend the morning talking with me quite amazed
Holding hands with a queen, and my heads full of murders
You should spend the morning walking with me quite amazed
As I'm unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed
And my tissue is rotting, where the rats chew my bone
Well, I'm the cream, yeah, of the great Utopia dream
Now you run from your window, to the porcelain bowl
And my eye sockets empty, see nothing but pain
On credit card rye bread, there are children in washrooms
As I'm unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed
I keep having this brainstorm, about twelve times a day