The actress never gives good advice
But still you listen to her bullsh** every night
And I'm just sitting flicking through channels now
There's nothing on anyhow
I'll let you in and you could be my vice
We could dress up and pretend all night
And I'll be sitting waiting in the backroom now
Wondering why things never work out
I'll let you in
Figure out what it takes to be your friend
I'll let go
Call my doctor and tell him I'm coming home
You call this a home
Your bones are brittle; your eyes are sockets of fat
Your skin feels nice but there is a product for that
And I'm just sitting wait on the Baptist
That sad f**er is radioactive
I'll let you in
Figure out what it takes to be your friend
I'll let go
Call my doctor and tell him I'm coming home
You call this a home