Mrs. Butterworth
Your life is shit, shitYour life is bogus, ballYour life is trite, cryYour life is hell, hell
I'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm going to die, to help my libidoI'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm gonna die, who wants to stay?
Your life is shit, shitYour life is strange and insaneYour life is lame, a type of crapYour life is jail, clam
I'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm going to hell, to help my libidoI'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm going to hell, help my libidoI'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm going to hell, help my libidoI'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm gonna die, who wants to stay?
Your life is shit
I'ma open myself up a flea marketI'ma open myself up a flea marketAnd you're gonna wish that you didMight retire on the profitsFirst off, I'ma empty out all of my Mrs. Butterworth jarsI'ma put 'em on a shelf with my 800 dollar a month tax free Century 21, shopAnd then I am going to put my Mrs. Butterworth syrup jars on the shelfNext to all the commemorative fast food chain glasses and cups I've accumulated over the past 62 years
Then I'm going to get some plywoodI'm going to get some plywood and cut them up into two by two piece squaresThen I'm going to get some burlap and I'm going to cut them into two by two piece squares and then I'm going to put them onto the pieces of plywoodAnd then I'm going to go to the beachI'm going to go to the beach and I'm gonna collect some shells and driftwoodAnd then I'm gonna take the shells and driftwood and glue them onto the plywood and burlapAnd sell 'em for lots of moneyPeople will be paying top dollar for my kids new used new toys and clothingThen maybe someday I can get rid of that piss stained mattress I've been sleeping on
I'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm going to hell, help my libidoI'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm gonna die, to help my libidoI'm gonna die, start a new unionI'm gonna die, to help my libidoI'm gonna die, we'll start a new unionI'm gonna die, who wants to stay?