plainspoke – monday morning lyrics
with elvis in his velvet room, i’ve melted down my attitude
felt my teeth are moving so i think that i should do it too
get a tattoo to commemorate my future death
tombstone with a blank slate for everything i’ve never said
room service in a flat hell, where the trees grow from the crack house
and the hill goes down to the black town, where the white folk live in a gl-ss clown
put your back out pulling weeds, under the bright red sun that no one needs
fight for fun when i’m holding these, with a wife and a gun and a cold for weeks
and a code i follow to the broken t, where the cross used to be when we believed in the g
i row my boat in a bottled up sea, for the exercise and what i’m trying to be
what i’m trying to see is the edge of the world, like the truman show hit the wall in the whorl
like a two-man show is a one-man band with a pinup girl in the back of the van
where the man’s hand moves like he’s heiling hitler, with his pants undo’d by the violent zipper
got three kinds of fruit in an island medley, bada-be-bada-boom by the silent many
got sheep in his shoes so he counts ‘em plenty, before he leaps from the roof, surmounting any
fear he had about the period, for the weary and lost, turn your head and clearly cough
i hate monday morning
and i hate monday morning
and i hate monday morning
i hate monday morning now
x4
chasing after false hopes and true accusations
i am wading in a deep pool of preoccupation
feel impatient, waiting for the day to end
sleeping while i pay the rent, figure what i made i spend
we don’t know what real men, are because we build them
we owe them our art and our hearts aren’t even real then
get into my field and feel me up
i peel back my skin until you can feel real love
texts won’t send when it’s filled up, that venom flow will just build up
until you’re poisoned by the chill stuff, k!lled by one of them pills, ‘cuz
there’s choices we don’t get enough, either go or say when you’re giving up
i fold away like a second bed, when i show my face you can second guess
when i hold your face so you can see the stars, gotta let you go but not too far
maybe mexico’s more fashionable when you’re matching the flow to lights in the dark
when the facts come slow like the fax machine, got a jam in the mouth but still has to feed
maybe left alone i put the past to sleep, but i’m too fast for the road, better watch my speed
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