Silent Type

[Verse 1]
"Half alive and stark-raving free with only a handful of gravel to suck on for the entire duration of this commercial-free interruption
We ran and ran until there was nothing left in our legs but sand and bourbon whiskey, fuel the ancients, god of nothing
Drizzle down the legs of this woman we call America with the glistening scent of her still on our bodies
Telling us to rally every heathen, jester, poet, rogue, transient, draft dodger, misanthrope, killjoy, heat seeker, mofo, abscessed, lawless son of a bitch
We get dragged out of whatever hobble they had declared their domain and stand on her teeth - America's teeth and make the loudest goddamn noise we can before last call, because that's considered the hottest band, the tyranny, the absolute tyranny of being righteous"

[Verse 2]
"I told that son of a bitch twice, I asked for the Jack and Coke, not rum and Coke, not Coke on ice, Jack and fucking Coke!
And he looks at me all high and proper and says 'God man, what's the difference?'
I look him square in his ricochet grin and say
'the hell with you because if you don't know what flavor's your flavor, then we're not really having this conversation.' and with that, I upended my giant spooling surface, table and ashtray and flew into a legend to have this asshole fucking bartender describing me as quote unquote 'a mad psycho who's really drunk and threw that table at me for no fucking reason, babbling about flavors.'
Immortalizing a bar myth for wanting a Jack and Coke and proving a point by punctuating with flying furniture, to each his own, I guess. Go figure"

[Verse 3]
"Is it just me, or is it all ending up with its pants up around its ankles throbbing for a break? A better way, a reach around, anything?
We turn and face the bullshit like waves of concrete. That sacrilegious moment before the mindset kicks in and you can't take it anymore and your mouth is the trigger and your brain is loaded and the monster wants to take apart every dirty fucker on the planet, because they don't deserve to feel this free, they don't get it and never will
So come on you bastards, I've got the mountains at my back and a face full of lines, lies, and tributes
Do you want me? I'm right fucking here
I'll wait forever if I have too, and I can see a thousand miles at once, so hiding is moot. Save your breath, because I'm waiting, going nowhere but up
Now back to your life - already in progress."