Tits Up

5 day forecast clouds in a piss cup
 Trying to pinpoint when the shit went tits up
 Whatcha gonna do to get your ass out of this rut
 So you don't have to live your whole life tits up
 Precious, brothers ain't a name in lights
 A last rice cake shaped under flames and dice
 That known to cope gotta swap old campfire chillers
 The kind that only grow in vampire state cellars
 And climb out of jars when they migrate westward
 Where they were free of any chessboard square
 Hi, I don't shake beer in the dark
 I write but I'm no Shakespeare in the park
 I'm a grownsed up punk with an ear for a heart and I hear you
 Please wait here for the ark
 Yes sir, likely to fester inactive unless they address all the death
 And distraction, shake hands with a foxhole raider
 Got a grip like c-c-c-c-combo breaker
 Tally up the dead folk squashed in a car
 Fire still warm they couldn't have gone far
 Packed up tough in your double stuff swimtrunks
 Cannonballs recalled when your shit split
 New high score on the IHop Dig-Dug
 Pretty cool otherwise pretty much
 How can I save you when I can barely save myself?
 Codependent No More on my audiobook shelf
 Cruise to your town in my cape and my unitard
 See what I can do with my lyrics and guitar
 Now I got my sidekick who brings the beatdown
 Have you seen the size of his feet?
 Clown shoes with his own name in gold on the side
 If you're in the dark we'll bring in a little Lite Brite
 Pop in the pegs
 Make cute pictures
 Pick up some merch, make us permanent fixtures
 On the self-help shelf of your record collection
 So if shit's tits up you can make the selection
 That will take you from limp to a little bit pumped up
 Our HQ is gluten free bun truck
 Shhh, zip your lips
 Don't tell the bad guys
 Shine that giant bun signal in the sky
 Wait a few months for us to arrive
 Big group hug, a little awkward
 Hi.
 One day you're in luck
 One day you're stealing cigarettes from a flipped truck
 Dick face, Tits up
 You feel a little better when we sign your high tops
 When you get home it's the same old tits up
 One half megafawna one half mall rat, haul ass
 Straight face, dove-tailed ball cap
 Grape ape unveil plans for the van use
 Drive to your shit town, tell you that your band rules
 Live with the get down, maybe out of shampoo
 Radio on scan for a stanza to lampoon
 Under the bum drum cutter is a real motherfuckers motherfucker, motherfucker
 Alex Karras and Conraid Bain and Leather Tuscadero
 And Pinky and the Brain re-enacting the Universal masturbation movie
 Dolph cold cocks Courtney love boobies and that over the shoulder anaconda holder
 You were close to the hole, you're getting colder
 Bogeyed your birdie when I powdered my putter
 But there ain't no fluffer that can fluff this nutter
 One day you're in love
 One day you're pills suck
 One day your shits fucked
 Nip tuck tits up
 Snookie in a snuggie at the walt witman pitstop
 Cinnabon, Bon Jovi, slippery tits up
 High noon, milk duds, cherry cola big gulp
 Corn dog, dim sum, moon die, tits up
 Swab your six lips with cholorform litmus
 Colorforms, horshack, Rorschach
 Hey Mom, life's good, works great, tip tops
 P.S. send cash, half dead, Tits up
 Riding on the back of Undercat Battlepop
 Underoos, big sword, top drawers
 Can't plug and old faithful with a fist fuck
 No rain coat, no dice
 Go Tits up
 Shine my shoe kicking elevator missed hugs
 Seventeenth floor nothing but bugs
 Brunch at the strip club, corn beef, crisp ones
 Four teeth, pink tux, porn stash
 Joey Martin Lawrence – WHOA!
 Little Stevie King Tut
 Bad taste walkaways, eternal blame
 This'll be remembered as the year you ruined Christmas
 Figgy pudding everywhere, shitty footing
 Willy Wonka shooting blanks
 Tae Bo Banks catwalk
 Looking glass
 Flexed ass
 Fizzy lifting tits up
 Block block, chop block, chop, kick, kick, punch
 Step over the line if you ever feel tits up
 Bert cake
 Unabomber
 Eyebrow
 Shit's punk
 Trimmed muff not so much
 Fluff's tough