So messed up, I want you here And in my room, I want you here And now we're gonna be face to face And I'll lay right down in my favorite place Yeah you know what that is Now I wanna be your dog Now I wanna be your dog Now I wanna be your dog C'mon, give it to me Now I'm ready to close my eyes Yes now I'm ready to close my mind Now I'm ready to feel your hands Lose my heart on the burning sand Now I wanna be your dog Now I wanna be your dog Now I wanna be your dog C'mon, I wanna be your dog you know it Do it Yeah that's right So messed up, I want you here In my room, I want you here And now we're gonna be face to face And I'll lay right down in my favorite place Yeah you know what that is Now I wanna be your dog Now I wanna be your dog Now I wanna be your dog Well come on I'll be your dog

I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters I wanna be your good boy, I wanna be your gangster 'Cause you can be the beauty and I could be the monster I love you since this morning, not just for aesthetic I wanna touch your body, so fucking electric I know you're scared of me, you said I'm too eccentric I'm crying all my tears and that's fucking pathetic I wanna make you hungry, then I wanna feed ya I wanna paint your face like you're my Mona Lisa I wanna be a champion, I wanna be a loser I'll even be a clown 'cause I just wanna amuse ya I wanna be your sex toy, I wanna be your teacher I wanna be your sin, I wanna be a preacher I wanna make you love me, then I wanna leave ya 'Cause baby, I'm your David and you're my Goliath, uh-huh Alright, okay Because I'm the devil who's searching for redemption And I'm a lawyer who's searching for redemption I'm a killer who's searching for redemption I'm a fucking monster who's searching for redemption I'm a bad guy who's searching for redemption And I'm a blonde girl who's searching for redemption I'm a freak who is searching for redemption I'm a fucking monster who's searching for redemption Redemption I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters I wanna be your good boy, I wanna be your gangster 'Cause you can be the beauty and I could be the monster I wanna make you quiet, I wanna make you nervous I wanna set you free but I'm too fucking jealous I wanna pull your strings like you're my Telecaster And if you want to use me, I could be your puppet 'Cause I'm the devil who's searching for redemption And I'm a lawyer who's searching for redemption And I'm a killer who's searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster who's searching for redemption Yeah Okay And I could be the monster I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master

I'm not insane I'm not bummed out I got no one to blame Nothing to change I got no evil to fight One thing's for sure I'm all outta angst Society don't bother me And there's something wrong with that I'm off to Pakistan Learn the laws of Islam Fundamentalism Forget that rock 'n' roll No cigarette, no drink In fact, It's difficult to think about getting laid When you don't even get to see her face I'm not insane I'm not insane I'm not liquored up I got nothin' to do, nothin' to lose I got no place to call home One thing's for sure I'm all outta angst Society don't bother me, and there's something wrong with that Next step Mongolia Don't get to golf or fuck or bowl with 'ya Throw out that handicap No stepping out, till spring In fact it's difficult to sing when it's 20 below And that's during the day I'm not insane

'There's something wrong with the kids in my neighbourhood They always listen to mom They disregard civil disobedience They'd rather do what they're told They don't drink, or fuck, or fight They sit home, and read, expand their minds There's something wrong with the kinds in my cul de sac Their always goin to church They dress well and they're Speaking articulate They show each other respect They're never late, don't smoke Or break rules They eat right, study hard They like school There's something wrong with the kids in my neighbourhood'

Possessions never meant anything to me I'm not crazy Well that's not true, I've got a bed And a guitar, and a dog named Bob who pisses on my floor That's right, I've got a floor So what? So what? So what? I've got pockets full of Kleenex and lint and holes Where everything important to me Just seems to fall right down my leg And onto the floor My closest friend linoleum Linoleum Supports my head Gives me something to believe That's me on the beachside, combin' the sand Metal meter in my hand Sportin' a pocket full of change That's me in the street with a violin under my chin Playin' with a grin Singin' gibberish That's me on the back of the bus That's me in the cell That's me inside your head That's me inside your head That's me inside your head

We're the band with our own label That's money under the table, that's answering to no one But still, other bands just love to hate us Talking shit behind us, but smiling to our face That's OK, it's not that they don't like us They're just a little jealous, cause We're having more fun (The band that wouldn't die) We're the self-crowned kings of candor, sultans of slander Bastions of D.I.Y Which means we make more money, we've got better prescriptions We own most of our own music, no one's got their hands in our pockets We don't have management, we get to play loaded And only 3 months a year Some years we just take off, vacations are a write off And so is goin' out (fuck us) I suppose that's how we'll go out Played out and way after our time

It's 3 o'clock at the Triple Rock, another round of watching Paddy talk It's where you wanna get snowed in when you get Snowed in, outside it's 10 below, is it day or night, we don't care or know What we know is that we don't wanna be Anywhere but here, please don't make us leave When in Minnesota and you got a drinking quota I'm seeing double at the Triple Rock, we're still here watching Paddy talk Then undress, then get out the duct tape The one question still remains, how much more art can we take? I'll let you know when the medication wears off I'm a religious drunk and this is where I pray The church of alcoholics can't break up the congregation Give us air to breathe, through carbonation We are at liquor church, genuflecting on barstools We're praying that the taps will keep the holy water flowing Key kicks of communion, then a long night of confessions Coming home afternoon seems to raise a lot of questions When in Minnesota and you got a drinking quota

I'm not here to entertain you I'm here to meet my friend the Russian The Irish, the German, the Columbian I don't care how bad I fuck up I care about how fucked up I get I'm not your clown I'm your dealer And I'm holding three bindles of bullshit And you're buyin' them 'cause you are addicted To the pure and totally uncut I'm not here to amuse you I'm here to abuse my body I'm here because old habits die hard And seriously, what else am I supposed to do? This isn't my job, my hobby, my habit It's sad, but this is my life Welcome to our mission statement Total self-debasement And not giving our all Watch us Fall! It's not that we don't pull it It's just that we only give about 60 or so percent Would you rather be fed bullshit From some 20-something, makeup wearing, popstar "This one goes out to all our fans all over the world Without you, we'd just be us. So, I just wanna say thank you! We fuckin' love you, Modesto!" Fuck you! And you're takin' it easy before the show So you won't lose your voice And disappoint your fans routine And you don't care about the children You don't even know them All you know is their money