Matchbook Diaries

[Verse 1] I love the way you took a second look into that book of matches Stamped with overlapping names and numbers, you mistook for matches You mistook for matches made in heaven's workshop Squatting on that crooked mattress, where you chose to curse god For the first time, with a dirty slob, with the worst wine aftertaste He said you did a clerk's job, while he jerks his [?] and masturbates Now let that sink in. (Baby, what you been drinking? Come on, you gotta start thinking.) You should have known that bastard dates the first mod squad model rep To cast her mating skills into his fishy bowl of masticating lady thrills After debating with his trainees, he'll say something fascinating Like, "Baby, chill, Kodak moments are fastly fading." Then he'll bravely swill the last of his remaining shady pills (It's that killed your baby!) And he said maybe we'll meet again most likely under the sheets And then we'll host a nightly hunter meets the hunted And then he cheats again, and your family trees bend over to lend a hand You've never been a fan of being a charity case; you don't want no minute man (What?) But you want his burial place If life gives you sour grapes, then make cheap wine Now how's that parody taste? It's guaranteed to make of a daring team with a therapy face Play 'Eternal Flame' on repeat until their stereo breaks [Verse 2] Her posture was that of Marilyn Monroe Standing above a street vent, (Happy birthday, Mr. President) Except she wasn't smiling, no white dresses. (Not impressive) She cradled her stomach, and I could tell she was in pain She grabbed for those matches, (Can we talk?) And I wanted to stop her, but she was She said don't bother me; I'll lose the truth As the man who fathered me blew it Walking me through his two-fisted trail of fallen trees Until I'm probably toothless Besides you're just a primate and talking to me is useless I said you're not biting; you're barking and it's music to my ears (I don't want to admit it [?] You don't know me! You don't know what I did! How am I to get around ? I used to be the shit[?]) I tore the wiring from her forklift She dropped dead gorgeous in her four seasons porch With her lips pressed against the cordless phone It was off the hook, you get it? (Yeah, haha-- That's funny shit-- Is that a joke? Yeah, yeah.) They call this girl but-her-nose, everything looks good But her nose is filled with coke, she just won't admit it (Hahaha. Get it? Yeah, yup. That's like fucking -- yes, I do get it. Good, that's good.) You struck a hand full of matches at the same time And couldn't figure out which stick to draw first Each one got a little closer to you and it hurts now Since that draft pick got worse You got the first degree from each one at the same time They want the news and the weather Instead you led them down the date line And now your sticky fingers fuse together Back in the days when she was a teenager Before she struck those matches and before she went through labor You could find this underager double fistin' Mother Nature Moms used to say it reminded her of her Savior [Outro: Shelley Duvall] If it hadn't been for that, you know, volley of ideas And sometimes butting of heads together It wouldn't have come out as good as it did Because it builds up anger actually And you-- You get more out of yourself And he knew that And he knew he was getting more out of me by doing that So it was sort of like a game--