The Vowels Pt. 2

I'm not a ladies man, I'm a land mine
 Filming my own fake death
 Under an '88 Cavalier I go
 But-but-but-but nothing but the rear bumper's blown
 But I's born for this flight
 United 955 on the fifth of July
 Back to SFO
 I-I join the dark side
 In a thin disguise
 On consumer grade video at night
 Faking suicide for applause
 In the food courts of malls
 And cursing racing horses on church steps
 Playing the wall at singles bingo
 All-time gringo
 Did anyone hear me cry there?
 Through a toilet stall divider
 I swear I care, raw
 Am I an example of a calculated birth?
 To a star chart for clowns, I'm not
 Under robin eggs in a nest, you hit a manila envelope
 With one last little robin's egg in it
 A hollow bullet yet spent
 Subject to dismissal
 I wish all my pitfalls
 Could be caught by this call
 Cheeri-a, cheeri-e, cheeri-i, cheeri-o, cheeri-u