Lyrics
She was fetishizing cursive on the day we met
And bolting oxidized copper to her TV set
When they asked, she said, "I can't be bothered."
I was old enough to be her father
She's a real go-getter
I should've known better
White angora sweater
I'm unemployed. She travels with an aquacade
With applause that sounds like alarm clock accolades
"God is not the author of confusion,"
She whispered during our blood transfusion
To my credit, she was a sexy gordian knot
And my Alexandrian solution hit the spot
"Why bother with bottom surgery at this point?"
She would say to me whenever I lit her joints
Human-written lyrics.
No generative AI was used in the writing of these lyrics.
Lyrics © 2026. All rights reserved.
No generative AI was used in the writing of these lyrics.
Lyrics © 2026. All rights reserved.
