Faith No More – RV

Backside melts into a sofa
My world, my TV, and my food
Besides listening to my belly gurgle
Ain’t much else to do

Yeah, I sweat a lot
(Mm-mm, oh, aw shit, ahh)
Pants fall down every time I bend over
And my feet itch
Yeah, I married a scarecrow

I hate you
Talking to myself
Everybody’s staring at me
I’m only bleedin’

Someone taps me on the shoulder every five minutes
Nobody speaks English anymore
Would anybody tell me if I was getting stupider?

I hate you
Talking to myself
You don’t feel it after awhile
You take the beating

And I’m a swingin’ guy
Throw a belt over the shower curtain rod
And swing
Toss me inside a Hefty
And put me in the ground

A drink needs me
I don’t
I ain’t about to guzzle no tears
So kiss my ass
Newscasters and cockroaches and desserts

I hate you
Talking to myself
Everybody’s staring at me
I’m only bleedin’

Where are the kids?
Maybe getting pregnant or on drugs or on welfare
On top of the world on the honor roll, parole and re-runs
Dodgers on the backs of milk cartons

On stakes in the middle of cornfields
On covers of future history books on old lady’s mantles
Walkin’ on water, nailed on crosses

I think it’s time I had a talk with my kids
I just tell ’em what my daddy told me
You ain’t never gonna amount to nothin’