Ah, let's 'fess up
To fire crackerjack snacks
And a piggy bank built and filled
To be spilled and broken

Hammy fat fingers pinch
Clammy cold coins
All the leaves left
Wither a sickly brittle brown

I'm dyin' to tell you, I'm dyin'
I don't need a reason

You've got yourself such a comfortable trap
Yes, I am talkin' to you
Yes, I know this is shameless

Yes, I am talkin' to you
You've got yourself such a comfortable trap
And you are shameless, shameless

A matinee of sunshine ribbons
On a sheet less mattress
Moonlighting as swooning
Moonlight isn't really from the moon at all

I am shining smiles and flowery glows
I am drunk in the breeze
In the park chasing kites and splashing puddles
Forget me knots in my gut that's what you get

We nibbled butter cookie rings to the knuckle
Artichoke trophies choked down
Through Nevada sandy enzymes
Past ribs choking scorching hearts

Down to an auto trophic stomach
I called her June until that late spring
Quite possibly March leap year
Automatic trophies aren't ****