Square Two

(Song 1) The man with the hair would talk real loud He made feel proud for not being afraid He helped me get over my fear of the dark And of the unknown in the year of the shark We'd meet in secret at the ends of the weeks And we were friends of the freaks and the misunderstood We'd listen to jazz, or go for a drive And i'm just glad we both were alive And everyone knew that the giant was john And no one had heard him once say a bad word Some say he's perverted, or maybe a manchild Just cause his imagination ran wild And what's wrong with that, in a world gone-a-fishing? You want to run away from a man on a mission Wow bob, wow wake up and smell the coffee Enjoy the scenery and the sounds of machinery Me and the man with the hair would compare notes We both wear boots and drink rootbeer floats We told jokes with old folks and lit things on fire And we all fall down in a small small town But now it's dark, and we follow the weird words of murmuring Burglars and murderers further than our father figures The nasty, ghastly, devious, and blasphemous Provides a more lasting fascination for us both (Song 2 - "Stupid", appeared on the album "Boy-Girl Fight") Swimming upstream Young men and women are fiending for Immediate intimacy with no limitiations Alas, the skirts don't hide the shadows Cast by the bare ass on the dancefloor Sexual warfare waits in the staircase And therefore most of them probably Shouldn't even really be there in the first place Unarmed soldiers of lust rub shoulders With those older and more immature than them It's disgusting, yet intruiging to see Overachieving greasers unleashing themselves Upon the female species Especially when the weather gets warmer and then The whole entire wardrobe is normally informal For your information, the hats are worn backwards And so are the morals when the girls wear overalls It's a sensitive issue involving insecurity Maturity levels, and lots of toilet tissue cause... The girls are desperate But the boys are even hornier The rose smells sweet But the stem is even thornier It's a match made in purgatory What more do you want to know? The girls get goosebumps and nipples to notice but No one knows how to communicate it's useless when Lies are told with closed eyes and Everybody tries to disguise their own flaws when the guys go "we need females and we read details." It's card tricks and hard dicks And a beat that goes like "uh uh uh yeah, uh huh uh uh yeah." The neat part of the meat market apart from the Darkness and lots of narcotics to me is the hard rocks No one needs to be told twice, there's plenty of cold ice Just tight pants and old spice who take shots and roll dice The carpets are crumby with puke coming out of them It's putrid and stupid Why don't you make a contribution To the plan-gathering, as a matter fact, word What do you say, this thursday? The girls are desperate But the boys are even hornier The rose smells sweet But the stem is even thornier It's a match made in purgatory What more do you want to know? It smells like everything inside of the hideout But i doubt anyone really wants to know why Oh my, goodness gracious, the place is basically bulging With people indulging in, all kinds of fabric It's a magical buffet of pheromones and flesh That defies all logic It's just like dodgeball, but instead of a ball The contestants throw around the head of a doll And i don't know what it means But it makes it worth the cost alone Even with the overflowing load of testosterone The sexual appetites are salty, it's a circus The circuits are faulty, and everybody's uptight With sweat stains and jet planes and hot rod love songs Blistering kisses for every mister and misses In the same of time it takes for you to make a sandwich, love You can probably find someone for you to take advantage of Cause the girls are desperate But the boys are even hornier The rose smells sweet But the stem is even thornier It's a match made in purgatory What more do you want to know? (Song 3) My long lost best friend was born to be wild When i was a kid, i conformed to his style B-boy deluxe from yankees to canucks With connects and contacts, and always came correct Exact him, except he was easily distracted by sleaziness Even when we should've been practicing Because back when we had peach fuzz He was freaking out each weekend And speaking of waiting for the end of the world He befriended a girl with a heart made of glass And was afraid to ask if he was Falling in love, falling asleep, falling apart, or all the above He was a fling, and she was his weakness Kissing his cheeks and playing with his paychecks At breakneck speed he was heading for a dead end Pretending he was healthy and defending himself He would always exaggerate and use his imagination Waiting for someone to say "congradulations," But i wasn't exactly happy for him, actually After turning his back to me gradually I call it a tragedy, watching him disappear This year it's crystal clear, listen here... Stop this crazy thing, you're all dressed up With nowhere to go, and your head's all messed up... Stop this crazy thing, you're all dressed up With nowhere to go, and your head's all messed up... Stop this crazy thing, you're all dressed up With nowhere to go, and your head's all messed up... Stop this crazy thing, you're all dressed up With nowhere to go, and your head's all messed up... Stop this crazy thing, you're all dressed up With nowhere to go, and your head's all messed up...