play lots with verses, i'll sing them rewritten
i bought top records since fourth grade was Thrillin'
brown people, jackson/prince, white ones like sting
singers of tunes i would make more like me

sleeves come a-showing lyrics that the crooners
more-less would make into misheard gay rumors*
i'd be the guy in his room studying
these and all tunes as i played the LP

words keep depression from moods that i'm havin'
always at eighteen, my role was my sadness
it would write its words as song-parody
teasing the blues of my head-injury

when the dogs die, weather's freezing, when i'm feeling sad
i'll simply forever write song parodies...and then i don't feel so bad!

* "excuse me while i kiss this guy"