The box I live in only has three corners The paint is peeling and the ceiling is too low I spread myself too thin I raped her birth certificate, we took a wrong turn at a busted pipe The dictator dictates the dictum the way drunk girls look at me Better call the doctor, I feel like I could k** her I can smell you on my finger (when she is disabled) I spit oil into the sink (when she is disabled) (with every piece of me) a lack of change can k** a man (I'd bury angels for you) While you're sleeping in dirty places (I'm lying through my teeth) Infidelity is forward momentum, misguided by nagging insecurities I can't win, the disabled one attacked the panoramic view of my guy I drew straws of fresh fruit from her bith can*l Her hair is in my throat The song ends with violins, I haven't k**ed anybody since 1984