Dry Heavin'

Walked in and my soul near left my body,
Toilet’s bubblin’ like a witch’s brew.
There’s somethin’ green on the ceiling,
And the sink's clogged up with someone's shoe.

There’s carvings in the stall that say "Hell is real,"
And a roach just winked at me.
I clutched my gut, bent down to cry—
But there’s nothin’ left in me.

I'm dry heavin’ over porcelain doom,
There’s a smell in the air that could clear a room.
Mop water swamp and mystery smear,
God, why’d I use the restroom here?
Yeah, I’m dry heavin’ — stomach's tappin’ out,
Tears in my eyes, but no puke comin’ out!

There’s a urinal cake in the middle of the floor,
And someone tagged the mirror with a Sharpie lie:
"Call for fun — 867-5309."
With a doodle of a demon eating pie.

The paper towel’s gone, the air dryer’s broke,
The light just flickered twice…
Somethin’ slithered out that ain’t no joke—
I whispered, “Jesus Christ.”

I'm dry heavin’ over porcelain doom,
There’s a smell in the air that could clear a room.
Mop water swamp and mystery smear,
God, why’d I use the restroom here?
Yeah, I’m dry heavin’ — stomach's tappin’ out,
Tears in my eyes, but no puke comin’ out!

The stall door creaked like a crypt in the wind,
Toilet seat warm — don’t know who’s been.
The smell hit hard like a two-by-four,
I staggered back… and dry heaved once more.

I'm dry heavin’, knees on the tile,
Prayin’ to a god I ain’t spoke to in a while.
I’ve seen war zones cleaner than this here stall—
It’s a biohazard crime scene down the hall.

I’m dry heavin’ — please take me home,
I’d rather pee in a field or hold it 'til I moan.
Left my soul in a truck stop restroom pit...
But I swear to the Lord,
I ain’t never goin’ back to that shit.