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Like the Backside of a Bulimic's Teeth (#1: Bats = Bugs)

from The Airbag's Lipstick Kiss by Disclaimer

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lyrics

It's like being punched in the face over and over and over.
I wish we could be erased and taped over with porn, because my ears are gushing.
It's the long, hot rush of a concussion.
My head drawn on a Spirograph.

So this is what it's like to rot (like the backside of a bulimic's teeth),
to curse the time you chose that wrong door (like the spiders we swallow in our sleep),
and watch yourself crash into things, because you've just let go.

Secretariat pupates.
Everything's weird and incorrect.
Possession? Obsession? Fate?
Select all that apply.
It's too late now for facts.
I've moved on to the sickness.
So I'll pop some blister-paks while you start your post-navel drip.

Breakin' up is hard to do, but breakin' down is easy!

credits

from The Airbag's Lipstick Kiss, released April 6, 2004
Written (regrettably) by Chris Willie Williams (BMI)

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Disclaimer Bangor, Maine

Disclaimer is multi-instrumentalist and music critic Chris Willie Williams. He writes black-humored electro-indie-rock songs about government corruption, heartbreak, and things generally crashing to an unpleasant end. He loves puppies.

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