She was part of the Air Force, I was part of the band
I always used to bust into her hand
In my, my, my imagination
I was living my best life, living with my parents
She was part of the Air Force, I was part of the band
I always used to bust into her hand
In my, my, my imagination
I was living my best life, living with my parents
Way before the paying penance and verbal propellants
And my, my, my cancellation, hm, yeah
[Verse 2]
And I fell in love with a boy, it was kinda lame
I was Rimbaud and he was Paul Verlaine
In my, my, my imagination
So many cringes and heroin binges
I was coming off the hinges, living on the fringes
Of my, my, my imagination, oh, yeah
[Pre-Chorus]
Enough about me now
You gotta talk about the people, baby
But that's kind of the idea
[Chorus]
At home, somewhere I don't like
Eating stuff off of motorbikes
Coming to her lookalikes
I can't get the language right
Just tell me what's unladylike
[Verse 3]
I know some Vaccinista tote bag chic baristas
Sitting in east on their communista keisters
Writing about their ejaculations
I like my men like I like my coffee
Full of soy milk and so sweet, it won't offend anybody
Whilst staining the pages of the nation, oh, yeah
[Pre-Chorus]
A Xanax and a Newport
Well I take care of my kids, she said
[Chorus]
The worst inside of us begets
That feeling on the internet
It's like someone intended it
(Like advertising cigarettes)
A diamond in the rough begets
The diamond with a scruff you get
[Instrumental Bridge]
[Outro]
Am I ironically woke? The butt of my joke?
Or am I just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke
Calling his ego imagination?
I've not picked up that in a thousand four hundred days
And nine hours and sixteen minutes, babe
It's kind of my daily iteration
Hun var en del af luftforsvaret, jeg var en del af bandet
Jeg plejede altid at buste ind i hendes hånd
I min, min, min fantasi
Jeg levede mit bedste liv og boede sammen med mine forældre
Vej før de betalende bøden og verbale drivmidler
Og min, min, min aflysning, hm, ja
[Vers 2]
Og jeg blev forelsket i en dreng, det var lidt halt
Jeg var Rimbaud, og han var Paul Verlaine
I min, min, min fantasi
Så mange cringes og heroinbinges
Jeg kom af hængslerne og boede på frynserne
Af min, min, min fantasi, åh, ja
[Pre-Chorus]
Nok om mig nu
Du skal tale om folket, skat
Men det er slags ideen
[Kor]
Derhjemme, et eller andet sted jeg ikke kan lide
Spise ting ud af motorcykler
Kommer til hendes lookalikes
Jeg kan ikke få sproget rigtigt
Bare fortæl mig, hvad der er ubelastet
[Vers 3]
Jeg kender nogle vaccinista -taske pose chic baristaer
Sidder i øst på deres kommunista keisters
Skrivning om deres ejakulationer
Jeg kan godt lide mine mænd som jeg kan lide min kaffe
Fuld af sojamælk og så sød, det vil ikke fornærme nogen
Mens du farvede landets sider, åh, ja
[Pre-Chorus]
En Xanax og en Newport
Nå, jeg tager mig af mine børn, sagde hun
[Kor]
Det værste inde i os begynder
Den følelse på Internettet
Det er som om nogen havde til hensigt det
(Som reklamecigaretter)
En diamant i de ru gang
Diamanten med en scruff, du får
[Instrumental Bridge]
[Outro]
Er jeg ironisk nok vågnet? Ryggen på min vittighed?
Eller er jeg bare noget post-kokke, gennemsnitlig, tynd bloke
Kalder hans ego -fantasi?
Jeg har ikke hentet det i tusind fire hundrede dage
Og ni timer og seksten minutter, skat
Det er slags min daglige iteration