Freak of the Week

When did I stop brushing my teeth everyday?
We went into that whorehouse
And picked the girls we’d slay
No windows in the room;
No white Spanish brooms
I don’t remember any of their names
But was I supposed to?
Depression’s got a bad rap --
It picked my favorite clothes;
I pit my cigarette butts in a shell it brought
From home
But girly’s in my bed;
Sometimes we must choose friends
So I shave my face; I wear condoms;
I’m on Pristiq, the Homeland drug

Baby, don’t be worried
I won’t be a freak of the week
Freaky weeks are pretty neat
But I gotta keep my baby

I have a music buddy
His studio was robbed
I don’t want happiness to mug me while I jog
I wish I had my gun
I have a lot of shit, and country boys
Can’t see insurance as a prescription
Orange groves we’d trespass
And scurry through the trees
The owner of the property shot at us --
We’d scream
That's still how I think of things
But let's not worry you
I squeeze all of those legal fruits
And drink its juice, its healthy juice

Baby, don’t be worried
I won’t be freaky weekly