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chewing at the waste - jack conman lyrics

i would blame god, but f*ck knows how he’s feeling, i would frame you but you’re just a stone’s throw from my being and you just live across the hall, the hall of deranged, so cynically brain dead and chewing at the waste. she’s so tight below the waist, how can i exchange this groan for raunchy taste?
i got no money for you, myself. like pride propaganderous bate my ego’s on the shelf, next to a picture of my dearest sister

call me a bad friend
call me a bad friend
i’m just a bad friend

cause you’re the inner city kind. i don’t trust a soul… mind you i trust myself to get me over the bread line, over the red line, over my wrecked life, and down past the road signs. cause lately i ask why, but that rips my brain clean out and makes me sorry to be alive, so hand me the bread knife, and i’ll try my best to hurt you with my weak inner fight

call me a bad friend
just call me a bad friend
cause i’m just a bad friend

“rude young woman” said everybody else, but to me you’re just well spoken, till your dad’s head hit the curb. and you just got referred, you got some tablets, i hope they work, if not i’ll wrap my head around ya, love ya till it hurts, but you don’t seem to feel it. don’t seem to feel nothing. why don’t you feel nothing? maybe it’s cause i’m nothing, in the grand scheme of things

- jack conman lyrics

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