Fred Hatt
I Only Talk About Myself, So I Don’t Mind That He’s a Bore
So now he’s next to me but I can feel you in my heart.
You’re everything. You’re everything he’ll never be.
It’s misery and, more specifically, I miss that day you spit on me.
Waiting for the World to End
Back in the head where I see red
Where the beast and the beauty coalesce
I give in to a morbid fantasy
Death to a billion families and me
Give me fire, burning hell
Throw it on my paper trail
And I’ll watch as all the numbers go
Up in a cloud of dark and dirty smoke
Everybody come with me
Let’s throw ourselves off Hubbard’s peak
And we’ll tumble down the mountainside
Into the mouth of all our great divides
Oh I’m just waiting for the end of the world.
End of the whole wide world.
We’re all troubled, in a world of trouble
It’s scary to have a kid walk this Earth
I’m what you made God, fuck yes, I’m so odd
Thinking ‘bout all my old friends, who weren’t my friends all along
Hm, when it rains it pours, whiskey bottles on the sinks and floors
Every day to find sane’s a chore, amidst a dream with no exit doors
