Matchbook Diaries (Remix)

[Verse 1] I love the way you took a second look into that book of matches With overlapping names and numbers, you mistook for matches Mistook for matches made in heaven's workshop Squatting on that crooked mattress, where you chose to curse god First sound, dirty slob, worse wine, aftertaste Said you did a clerk's job, jerks off and masturbates Now let that sink in. What you been drinking? Come on, you gotta start thinking That bastard dates the first mod squad model rep To cast her baby skills, into his fishy bowl of masticating lady thrills Debating with his trainees, he'll say something fascinating Like, "Baby, chill. Kodak moments are fastly fading." He'll bravely swill the last of his remaining shady pills It's the one that killed your baby He said, "Maybe we'll meet again, most likely under the sheets And then we'll host the nightly hunter meets the hunted." And then he cheats again Your family trees bend over to lend a hand But you've never been a fan of being a charity case You don't want no minute man, but you want his burial place They said, "If life gives you sour grapes, then make cheap wine." Now how's that parody taste? And it's guaranteed to make You a daring teen with a therapy face Play Eternal Flame on repeat until their stereo breaks Down the science of love [Bridge] You thought we'd both go up in smoke, send dual smoke signals You got denied that must be why you drew both pistols You shot the sky, and here I am, catching fallen angels [Verse 2] She said, "Don't bother me. I'll lose the truth As the man that fathered me blew it Walking me through his two fisted trail of fallen trees And now I'm truthless. 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." It's music to my ears It's music to my ears I tore the wiring from her forklift She dropped dead gorgeous, in a Four Seasons porch With her lips pressed against a cordless phone It was off the hook, get it? They call this girl "but-her-nose." Everything looks good But her nose is filled with coke; she just won't admit it, get it? She took another match, and she lit it She struck a handful of matches at the same time And couldn't figure which stick to drop first Each one got closer, 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 It said you led them down the dateline And now your sticky fingers fuse together Like, back in the days when she was a teenager Before she struck those matches, before she went through labor You could find this underager double-fistin' tons of strangers Back in the days when she was a teenager -- Before she struck those matches, before she went through labor -- You could find this underager, double-fistin' tons of strangers Moms used to say, it reminded her of her... savior