RV (Live in Dekalb, Illinois 20th September 1992)

Backside melts into the sofa

My world, my TV and my food

Besides listening to my belly gurgle

There ain't much else to do

Yeah, I sweat a lot

Hmm, no, eh, shit, oh

Pants fall down every time I bend over

My feet itch

Yeah, I married a scarecrow

I hate you

Talkin' to myself

Everybody's staring at me

I'm only bleedin'

Someone taps me on the shoulder every five minutes

Nobody speaks English anymore

Would anybody tell me if I was getting stupider?

I hate you

Talkin' to myself

You don't feel it after a while

You take the beating

I'm a swingin' guy

Throw a belt over the shower curtain rod

And swing

Toss me inside a hefty

And put me in the ground

A drink needs me

I don't

I ain't about to guzzle no tears

So kiss my ass

Newscasters and cockroaches and desserts

I hate you

Talking to myself

Everybody's staring at me

I'm only bleeding

Where are the kids? I don't know

Maybe getting pregnant or on drugs or on welfare

On top of the world

Honor roll, parole, or reruns

Dodgers on the backs of milk cartons

On stakes in the middle of cornfields

On covers of future history books, old lady's mantles

Walkin' on water, nailed on crosses

I think it's time I had a talk with my kids

I'll just tell 'em what my daddy told me

You ain't never gonna amount to nothin'