12:17 a.m.
January 06, 2006
Yeah, I hope your life is real bad
Since you moved up north
You saved up all your money
When you stopped driving back and forth
And now I hope your life's a mess
And that you hate your job
I hope the weather's cold as hell
And all your friends are snobs
See I still drive by your old house
I'll even stop and check your mail
Occasionally I'll pull the weeds
And tell people it's not for sale
And I'll climb up on the roof
Sleep there for days
One time the police shot me down
But I was okay

Don't flatter yourself
I'm just about over you
I occupy my time with other things
I let my work consume me
See I got something that keeps me real busy now
I'll tell you what it is
I box up live raccoons and ship them to countries where they don't live

Don't you try to get away from me
I'm as normal as they get
If you think that bleeding pig-heart I mailed you was weird
You ain't seen nothing yet
That spanish-english dictionary
Will only get you so far
Once you cross the border
In your Korean car
We'll be dancing around Sombreros
And eating a lot of chips
And some sexy latin lover
Will have you by the hips