hey, mister,
can I get a ride?
I\'m headed towards the sun
or the moon,
somewhere I can hide.
cops can\'t search your mail
so I put it in an envelope,
rip it when I\'m gone,
when you\'re home,
when you\'ve lost hope.
I\'m sure by the time they find me,
I\'ll be heavy with a child
conceived in hell,
since it reigns on earth.
make appointments,
keep \'em filed
away.
I won\'t be like my predecessors,
I will live and die
before I kill myself,
and I will love the devil in disguise.
I keep searching for answers,
but the bottle is empty,
and there\'s no neon sign.
I make out with guns sometimes
because it turns me on.
it lights me on fire,
it blows my mind!