Lyrics

You can call it what you want but I don't know Why the things in your garden, why they grow You can call me if you want But I don't know if I'll pick up the phone I cut that photo from a Marxist magazine And I took my pens and added yellow, blue and green I wish there was an easy way to make this photo Just a bit more interesting, interesting, interesting This week goes by much too, much too quick I thought examples would let some of my ideas stick But (like my idols) it's been written with love And it's been sealed with a kick, sealed with a kick Monday morning won't let me go back to sleep Telling me what I can and cannot believe Maybe a handgun will be my last chance To make that existential leap