13.08.2021
The Root of Evil
Versions: #1Itching to fight my own clothing and shouting like a psycho,
I’m inclined to murder, so they say, a mad man, a whacko.
I swear at anyone who speaks to me, and seek pretexts for fights.
Don’t say “Good day” to me, I just might punch out your lights.
It’s these shattered nerves of mine and my nightly one-eyed vision -
I haven’t always been this way. What led to my condition?
Noise pollution? Tainted water? What do I excoriate?
Or could my rotten mood be just some inborn trait?
None of those, no none of those are really at the root of evil.
I wouldn’t be a wreck if we were screwing like normal people.
You’re always saying “Give me time.” You’re holding me at bay.
How I feel about you - you crave phrases to make sex OK.
My dear, I beseech you, I can’t stand another day.
Let’s drop this talking, forget the foreplay.
My palm is always itching right before my dormition.
I haven’t always been this way. What led to my condition?
Noise pollution? Tainted water? What do I excoriate?
Or could my rotten mood be just some inborn trait?
None of those, no none of those are really at the root of evil.
I wouldn’t be a wreck if we were screwing like normal people.
None of those, no none of those are really at the root of evil.
I wouldn’t be a wreck if we were screwing like normal people.
None of those, no none of those are really at the root of evil.
I wouldn’t be a wreck if we were screwing like normal people.
None of those, no none of those are really at the root of evil.
I wouldn’t be a wreck if we were screwing like normal people.