Go on and ring my neck

like when a rag gets wet

a little discipline

for my pet genius

my head is like a lettuce

go on and dig your thumbs in

I cannot stop giving

I`m thirty-something



Sens of security

like pockets jingling

Midlife Crises

suck ingenuity

down through the family tree



You`re perfest, yes, it`s true

but without me you`re only you

your menstruating heart

it ain`t bleedin`enough for two

it`s a Midlife Crises...



What an inhertance

the salt and the kleenex

morbid self attention

bending my pinky back

a little dicipline

rent an opinion



Sens of security

holding blunt instrument

I`m a perfectionist

and perfect is a skinnend knee



You`re perfect, yes, it`s true...