Part Of The Band

She was part of the Air Force

I was part of the band

I always used to bust into her hand

In my, my, my imagination

I was living my best life

Living with my parents

Way before the paying penance and verbal propellants

And my, my, my cancellation

And I fell in love with a boy

It was kinda lame

I was Rimbaud and he was Paul Verlaine

In my, my, my imagination

So many cringes and heroin binges

I was coming off the hinges

Living on the fringes of my, my, my imagination

Enough about me now

You gotta talk about the people, baby

(But that's kind of the idea)

At home, somewhere I don’t like

Eating stuff off of motorbikes

Coming to her lookalikes

I can’t get the language right

Just tell me what’s unladylike

I know some Vaccinista tote bag chic baristas

Sitting in East on their communista keisters

Writing about their ejaculations

I like my men like I like my coffee

Full of soy milk and so sweet, it won't offend anybody

Whilst staining the pages of the nation

A Xanax and a Newport

I take care of my kids, she said

The worst inside of us begets

That feeling on the internet

It's like someone intended it

(Like advertising cigarettes)

A diamond in the rough begets

The diamond with a scruff you get

Am I ironically woke?

The butt of my joke?

Or am I just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke

Calling his ego imagination?

I've not picked up that in a thousand four hundred days

And nine hours and sixteen minutes, babe

It's kind of my daily iteration