The Art of Blowing Glass vs The Act of Breaking It

A pimp like Dumbledore, a whore like Mother Mary
Tele-vanglists keep closets full of fairies
Pet truck stop lot lizards and aged cherry
I saw her crying at the drive-in, thought her bruises was cute
The sick heart is a carnival and we're just passing through
Something told me to run, never could trust the truth
Happiness is warm cum, bang bang, shoot shoot

There are worst things than being alone
Or so it goes, take her number out my phone
And play a song that I know on the stereo
She will come around like a merry-go
And there we go, menthol lights and diet cherry coke
Her breath smells of formaldehyde and a thousand guys
When we would drive the mountain side and try her mother's wine
But I can never find the time cause she's dead behind the eyes
Besides; the only chemistry is pride
She's to naive; which is why she always dry heave
And wear the wild fits to make the guys scream for ice cream
I need to get my eyes off of her high-beams
But when I try and leave she always finds me, the size queen
Her skin is paper and her spine is just a string
She's had a couple partner's but it's tighter than you think

There are worst thing's than being alone, I know I know but
I was at a low when I had her at hello
And if I told her once I must've told her thirty times before
Just a man taking what he needs from the store
But she wanted more, and can i bum another smoke?
Sleeping through september waking up beside a ghost

There are worst things than being alone, I sold my soul
For a firm set of titties and a shallow barren hole
She said she wishes it was only just the two of us
I love you like my first time shootin' up
She said her past has got nothing to do with us
Do a bump or two of adderall and get all loosened up

I searched the cabbage patch nebula and it gave me a garbage pail kid
She made all my abortions as true as they is
And every sunset and apocalypse a lost heart
I loved you so crazy I lost my art; Joan of Arc
Baby, I was lost to start