Letra de Fuckheads Is the Auto-correction
Am I a creep because I don't have a chosen pronoun? Am I a creep because my mind is the Odeon of the multiverse? How you bragged your length of legs by insisting to walk to Midtown Microchips looking miserable in a Greenpoint gallery I bounced between bars full of ink alone as a pinball, yes that aloneNow your long haired friend is looking for his cocaine And I'm happy my drink's not empty, as long as there's something left in the glass you don't look like an alcoholic She sometimes, always appears to be plural, I oversing ambivalenceOvary venom as a first confession Now that shе shaved her head wе're all one big comb over He developed a craving for impotent men who peacock Themselves invisible and being very ugly for tips Gentrification of libido, self-titled just like New York City itselfRagout the streetware of horsemanship I can dance with you We took too much bitter anonymous performative abuse and now we can't sleep She changed her name by one letter leaving nothing to discretion Fuckheads is the new preferred auto-correctionEvery idea is aquatic life no thought is the sea That's the only tear I've never cried it cried for me Gray babies ululating outside the afternoon door Horror vacui conversation I don't adore mi amor