the box I live in only has three corners
The paint is peeling and the ceiling is too low
I spread myself too thin
I raped her birth certificate, we took a wrong turn at a busted pipe
The dictator dictates the dictum the way drunk girls look at me
Better call the doctor, I feel like I could kill her
I can smell you on my finger (when she is disabled)
I spit oil into the sink (when she is disabled)
(with every piece of me) a lack of change can kill a man (I'd bury angels for you)
while you're sleeping in dirty places (I'm lying through my teeth)
infidelity is forward momentum, misguided by nagging insecurities.
I can't win, the disabled one attacked the panoramic view of my guy
I drew straws of fresh fruit from her bith canal
Her hair is in my throat
The song ends with violins, I haven't killed anybody since 1984.