connecticut's for fucking - jesus h christ & the 4 hornsmen of the apocalypse lyrics
we live in the dullest state
package stores all close at eight
malls are full of optometrists
and restaurants we hate
swimming across lake qu-ssapaug
stealing makeup, catching frogs
cutting our feet on broken bottles
as we wade in the shepaug
it’s true for horses, cows and dogs…
connecticut’s for f-cking
that’s all there is to do
i love to listen to cl-ssic rock
and have s-x with you
doing hole shots at the mall
writing ozzy on a wall
watch the corn get tall
there’s nothing else to do at all
goin’ where we always go
doin’ what we always do
waitin’ to turn into the people
we are bound to turn into
what else do other people do?
connecticut’s for f-cking
it’s the nutmeg state
if we can’t afford to buy antiques
then we just copulate
connecticut’s for f-cking
and m-ssachusetts too
i want to climb up the sleepy giant
and have s-x with you
up in fairfield
in old lyme
we’re just f-cking all the time
out in derby
down in kent
we’re all busy getting bent
in the const-tution state
connecticut’s for f-cking
while we’re waiting to
turn into the people
everyone here turns into
connecticut’s for f-cking
there’s nothing else to do
i wanna listen to cl-ssic rock and have s-x with you
we all love to f-ck in connecticut
we’re all getting f-cked in connecticut
let’s f-ck!
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