My telephone's been abuzz all morning and I don't know who is trying to get through. I did some shit that I should have done smarter, but they get away with everything so I thought I could get away too. Down in the gulf there's a black sea-monster and my crime ain't huge, a world-tattered cube that I didn't affix with a shiny new sticker. Go swallow the summer and choke on the fumes because they get away with everything that they do. So hold onto your home. It's shaky, I know, but if you flee trash will follow. the winds that you left in your wake and you'll fall down again. Oh, the office called. You're in deep deep trouble. The shit you're afraid of has made you hateful and you're letting on, tired eyes, all spiteful. And nobody cares. We all got sorrows, so hold onto your home and onto your hope. Sorrow don't answer problems. Nobody cares. We're all in trouble. The shit that you hate don't make you special. The shit that you hate don't make you special. The shit that you hate don't make you special. (repeat)
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