Hot Car Death Dad -

Don’t eat the food because then we have to keep it

She said it’s just like me to always ruin the weekend

Despicable individual and a slave to ritual

I touch the finger divot between the hemispheres of my upper lip

White trash ignition button hit

Drive the lawnmower on rocks and I don’t give a shit

Self flagellate huff fog and I won’t ever quit

We spend long nights searching for my beloved shruti box

Fantasy drives my macabre romantic walks

I stare down at backlit feet Dutch sky under floor for days

Roll your head back ceiling is plaster white capped waves

I’m hot car death dad

I’m not that rad

Rock and a hard place?

I’ll get shit faced

I lie and lie

Just can’t fake smiles

Small goals are worthwhile

Mosaic of shit tiles

Rewind the tape on my fate

You’ll see I’m not so great

The asphalt that frames up my house

From little bones was baked

So I’ll use the shed for smoked meat tanning

Use the den for TV/manning

Like Rip Van Winkle steamrolled his life

I’ll hide out here without my wife

I’m hot car death dad

I’m not that rad

Rock and a hard place?

I’ll get shit faced

I lie and lie

Still can’t fake smiles

A meaningless lifetime

A piano from the sky