Ian Montone - That Black Bat Licorice lyrics

What? Behave yourself Behave yourself You need to behave yourself, boy Yeah, she's built for speed like a black Castrum Doloris Good for the needy, like Nietzsche, Freud and Horace But I'm skinflint, broke, makin' no money, makin' jokes But baby, I won't joke with you My feet are burnin' like a Roman hypocaust But the Romans are gone, they changed their name because they lost She writes letters like a Jack Chick comic Just a buncha' propaganda, make my fingers histrionic; Like this, and this I mean, she's my baby But she makes me get avuncular And when my monkey is jumpin' I got no time to make it up to her I fantasize about the hospital The army, asylum, confinement in prison Any place where there's a cot to clear my vision I spit it out Whatever's in my mouth Just like that Black Bat Licorice Yeah, that Black Bat Licorice That Black Bat Licorice That Black Bat Licorice Yeah I wanna cut out my tongue and let ya' hold onto it for me 'Cause without my sk** to amplify my sounds it might get boring I've got the wit of the staircase with atomic clock precision And the phases of the moon directin' all of my decisions like this When I need to know, I play dumb like Columbo And get my feelin's hurt and move to NY like I'm Dumbo Don't you want to lose the part of the brain that has opinions? To not even know what you are doing, or care about yourself or your species in the billions Yeah, I have to spit it out Ah, whatever's in my mouth Ah, I have to spit it out (behave yourself) Just like that Black Bat Licorice That Black Bat Licorice That Black Bat Licorice, I never liked it, I never will Now state the same damn thing with the violin Whatever you feed me I feed you right back But it will do no good