The Telephone
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Another night of too much cough syrup
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I'm awakened by the incessant ringing of a telephone
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I still have dreams caked in the corners of my eyes
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and my mouth is dry and tastes shitty
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Again the ringing
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Slowly I bustle out of bed
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The remnants of an erection still lingering in my shorts
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Like a bothersome guest
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Again the ringing
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Carefully I abscond to the bathroom
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As to not display my manhood to others
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There I make the perfunctory morning faces
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Which always seem to precede my daily contribution
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To the once-blue toilet water
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That I always enjoy making green
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Again the ringing
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I shake twice like most others
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and I'm annoyed by the dribble that always seems to remain
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Causing a small acreage of wetness on the front of my briefs
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I slowly languidly, lazily, crazily,
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Stumble into the den
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Where my father smokes his guitars
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I mean cigars
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In his easy chair
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I know all about easy chairs
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and then I sing a song for my friends
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Jesus is my boyfriend
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Jesus is my boyfriend
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You can't have him
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Because jesus is my boyfriend
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Ringing ringing
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Dang it goddamn motherfucking son-of-a-bitch is ringing
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I walk into the kitchen and I
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Stare blankly at that shrieking plastic bastard
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Since it keeps ringing I know it's her
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and since it keeps ringing she knows it's me
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We are the world, we are the children
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We are the ones who make a darker day
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So let's start killing
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There's a choice you're making
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We're sparing our own lives
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It's true we'll make a darker day
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Just you and me
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The Telephone
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| Marilyn Manson |
