May our consonants click and tick together
May our vowels howl and wail as one
And may our sounds stick to the bricks we throw
May poignant expressions wait in bedroom mirrors
Ask me to make a toast
So I butcher a Wordsworth poem and spill my drink
Push the cobwebs from the door
I'm coming home tonight
Stare across a greasy table
A bottle of wine and future cla** lines
Serve up a night of American pop cla**ics
Fresh air, and dirty silverware
Ask me to make a toast
So I butcher a Wordsworth poem and spill my drink
Push the cobwebs from the door
I'm coming home tonight