I Am a Rockstar Who Is Really Cool and Sexy

The game goose gaggles geese in 3s

Whilst wearing the fleece of the lone wolf sheep

Fed mostly on feasts of wild bewilderbeasts

In the shadow of 'c' where our moons may meet

I am slaying with desperation for someone else to force me

And of-course me into what I say is necessity

When I would happily wait whilst all depreciates bar a sweltering ego

Feigning some gallent know-how of the inner workings of the cash cow

"Ego, ergo, sum" until momentous pretention

Spans past the scope of a self aware joke and into the frying pan

Now the braggadocio of one-person show

Manifest, ever increasing aspect ratio

Feeling better than an aspic glory hole

Half-hiding all the sentiments in faux-poetic code

Now who's gonna save my sock with the hole

When the gelatine encases immature turns of phrases?

And what I wish to call folk art equivalence

Is really just me speaking of my laziness

Yeah, it's just me speaking of my laziness

I won't be pure, I know I'm contrived

I'll make bad art the rest of my life

I'll take what I can and claim it as mine

Recycled intent in a lazy design

I won't be pure, I know I'm contrived

I'll make bad art the rest of my life

I'll take what I can and claim it as mine

Recycled intent in a lazy design

Recycled intent in a lazy design

Lay around lazy with enough expectation

That I can somehow do more than superfluous creations

Say some strangers with their polite congratulations

Lately gravy's been tasting different

I've got disparate desires that won't intertwine

So a belligerent nature soon comes to define

It felt significant, but only for a short amount of time

For now, I only want the softest of liquorice

Snake in my boot when the pull string worked

Now it's a flickering gibberish that only just hurts

I slowly find the teenage songs I needed all still sounding worse

There was never a performance, just the time to rehearse

I won't be pure, I know I'm contrived