1. I’m out of all doors, down on all fours, Just give me a landmark to crawl towards. Low-lifes living in varied environments, Most survivors aren’t survivalists. The way we act, you can tell we’ve not rehearsed. I never kick a door down without trying the knob first. I’ve never kicked any doors down, just knocked more, And given up and left when my knuckles got sore. Are you living on a prayer or preying on a life? I won’t fall on my sword, but might lay on my knife If I feel like the sacrifice will garner the appropriate notice, Advancement of the greater good is just bonus. I don’t take a strong anti-materialism stance, ‘Cause you can tell that I don’t care about it at a glance. All beggars would be choosers if given the choice, Everything to say was said while you were picking a voice. Chorus: Dessert is an artificial construct. The hard sell’s got us all stuck With stuff we don’t want, but easing the pain Coincides with freezing the brain. And the true devotee is possessed of a tongue, Hanging from the mouth, limp and numb. And when the unbeliever finally conceded and knelt, That’s when the soft serve started to melt. 2. Gloom swoops in on dark wings, But whenever I see a beautiful woman with a balding man, my heart sings. I wouldn’t call it a hot streak, But I’ve been feeling how I always feel all week. If I was born ready, then I guess it didn’t stick. When it’s time for a different trick, I’ll switch to limericks. And I’m the one that you should call upon When you want a late night nostalgiathon. I reject rules for appropriate expressions of grief, That said, eulogies for your youth should be brief. I resent being a customer, Some poor working stiff’s thought bubble puncturer. I put a silent question mark at the end of every statement. I hope I never unwittingly groom my own replacement. When your tooth isn’t suited to properly chew, Then you find a smooth food to accommodate you. Chorus: Dessert is an artificial construct. The hard sell’s got us all stuck With stuff we don’t want, but easing the pain Coincides with freezing the brain. And the true devotee is possessed of a tongue, Hanging from the mouth, limp and numb. And when the unbeliever finally conceded and knelt, That’s when the soft serve started to melt. 3. After five minutes of watching a throne, You see it’s just an elaborate chair and start walking home. The light is failing, we can’t read the cue cards, Improvisers all around, all trying too hard. If you solve world hunger with your zipper down, It’s gonna be the open fly that gains the most renown. Minor medical procedures canceled ‘cause of lost nerve, But you don’t gotta lose your tonsils to subsist on soft serve. Chorus: Dessert is an artificial construct. The hard sell’s got us all stuck With stuff we don’t want, but easing the pain Coincides with freezing the brain. And the true devotee is possessed of a tongue, Hanging from the mouth, limp and numb. And when the unbeliever finally conceded and knelt, That’s when the soft serve started to melt.

1. Let me start with a statement saying words are inadequate. Now I’ll throw a long stream of meager words after it. Metaphors mixed into a thick gray paste Without a single thought given to how they taste. There’s an inverse relationship between being talkative And the odds that you’ll ever say something provocative. Writing off the sun in the span of one eclipse. How do you scratch past the surface when your fingers have blunt tips? Simon says a lot, never explains what he means. It’s often imperceptible, but every tower leans. Mnemonic devices we forgot to learn. It’s in bad taste to crash and not burn. I base my delusions on actual events. I’d rather ask permission than mount a passionate defense. You’ll be sporting your support of harsher rules Like a heavy fur coat when your ardor cools. Chorus: I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be a valid option. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be somewhat exposed. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be almost too nuanced. I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be a man of multiple reasons. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be a graceful quitter. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be before my prime. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be lightly impeded. I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be a man for at least two seasons. 2. I hate the game and the player and the played. Embarrassed in the presence of a naysayer swayed. So afraid of fear itself it’s like we’re allergic To our own saliva. The analogy isn’t perfect. We wouldn’t pause to examine every signpost If we believed the Devil really takes the hindmost. It’s a natural outcome of leading with the caveats That your real message starts to feel like an afterthought. Low-rent impressionists trying to play God, But the fakeness of the beards betrays the fraud. It takes too much effort to be the black sheep Of the makeshift flock consigned to the scrap heap. Trapped in endless debate about what is or isn’t possible, Our own memories start to feel apocryphal. A figure in a painting, both motionless and miniature, Your face in part marred by the artist’s signature. Chorus: I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be a tonal shifter. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be always excused. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be kind of decisive. I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be a man of more than one action. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be amused forever. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be a mystery tool. I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be, wanna be considered harmless. I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be…