Put this down for the record 
It’s more or less unchequered 

Wasted days and wasted nights 
Made me a fucking beggar 
No soul my milk is curdled 
I’m the burger-meister of purgatory 

Look out for that hot plate 
Guess that’s all you got. great 
You put the cock in cocktail, man 
Well I put the tail in — wait! 
Watch. me. walk. 
Blowtorch a hole in that armor 
And I don’t need the tip 

I am in love with your daughter 
And though she has no need 
I’m the one who’s got some trotters 
You’ve many mouths to feed 

Indie Cindy 
Be in love with me 
I beg you for to carry me 

Mixed messages from Sir Naff 
Please authenticate 
Just to be sure that you’re a sap 
Set for stun automatica 
Crap is the operative 
Locomotive of the longest death 

There goes Indie Cindy whose 
Sails were black when it was windy 
We offed ourselves in a lover’s pact 
We threw ourselves into the sea 
Well looksie what the wind washed back 
As we follow the bouncing ball 
They call this dance the washed up crawl 

I am in love with your daughter 
And though she has no need 
I’m the one who’s got some trotters 
You’ve many mouths to feed 

Indie Cindy 
Be in love with me 
I beg you for to carry me