I'd shave my face into clark gable's 

but i wouldn't be at my best

i do my talking at coffee tables

i like a setting sun in the west

don't you hate it when people are not what they sem

i love it when 

water doesn't turn into steam 


my breed is a melancholy one

i'm skinny and slow, with a hairy chest

i only want the hole in one

i like a setting sun in the west

don't you hate it when

you waste your brain playing games

i love it when

people sound like their names 


i try to open my red blue eyes

always on time at least

i like my songs alphabetized

i like a rising sun in the east

i love it when

night falls on hoboken

it'll fall again

truer word was never spoken