Like rust, heart cracks and dries
Loses its shell in self-pity
I stayed up way too late
And now I pay
I lose

With more, Im me; almost alive
A spatula couldnt help me up
The smell of bacon
The sound of riots
Ive passed smile inside

Eyes down throughout the walk
Id do anything to feel flown
We know I want to smell pretty
Taste me, Im bruised
I seek wide teeth

Spend time thinking and lost
Bored and sifting through gibberish
Sure you dont want to switch?
Those are my clothes
Motherfucker

I smell girl in here
My second favorite flavor in the world
I just want a pickle
And ride around on my motor-sickle 
Someones cooking meat without me

written by Jarrett Pahinui