Shrunk

Lyrics

[Verse 1] My first name is a random set of numbers and letters And other alphanumerics that changes hourly forever My last name, a thousand vowels fading down a sinkhole to a susurrus It couldn't just be "John Doe" or "Bingo" My address, a made-up language written out in living glyphs Lifted from demonic literature and religious text Telephone, uncovered by purveyors of the ouija When checked against the CBGB women's room graffiti My social, a sudoku; my age is obscure My in-case-of-emergency is in the daisies, chasing birds Employed by trillionaires with perfect teeth and pores And people who open doors for the people who open doors My medical history is a course at SUNY Buffalo Charlatan psychiatry and troubleshooting undertow Nervous in the service, still; I'm burger meat and purple pills —"Here." —"Thank you. We'll call your name." —"Sure, you will." [Interlude] Skipped lunch I'm shrunk [Verse 2] You pack up all your manias, you're sitting in the waiting room You're dreaming of arcadia, you're feeling like a baby tooth Awaiting panacea, channeling your inner Beowulf In purgatory, just before you pay up to filet yourself and others In the name of help, coal on a conveyor belt Into ego death alone, no telephone from Gabriel I'm half a human, combin' over Home and Garden, stoned Gold chains over turtleneck, cigars over cologne A thousand shitty paintings wrapped around a wounded animal Woo him with the Schubert, he's a future human cannonball Little fuckers fighting, mother hiding in her Hulu I'm climbing up the stucco, let's get to the seppuku—uh-oh That pretty penny turned the prickly into Benji If you save up all your winnings, then you get to count your blessings I finally crunched the budget up and punched the button She called my name out and pushed me into an oven [Interlude] The fuck? I'm shrunk [Verse 3] She says, "I'm not your enemy." I said, "That sounds like something that my enemy would say." Instead of playing off the chemistry She said, "You're being difficult." I said, "I'm being guarded You're a quarter-mil' in debt; I get more guidance from my barber Look—I'm not good at this; I grew up in a noogie-fest You built your walls up high or said goodbye to all your Cooky-Puss Here's one: Every time my telephone buzzes I see images of hooded riders setting fire to hundreds." She said, "When you start getting all expressive and symbolic It's impossible to actualize an honest diagnostic." I said, "When you start getting all exact and algebraic I'm reminded it's a racket, not a rehabilitation." Okay, agree to disagree as grown-ups from opposing clans Honoring the push and pull, I should've called the Scholomance Oh well, preservation is a doozy —"Will you be needing another appointment?" —"Absolutely." I'm shrunk!