Lyrics Happy Insider feat. Nick Thorburn - Busdriver

Happy Insider feat. Nick Thorburn

I’ve never been the brightest guy
You know the ones all the gals look for
I used to think Norweigan wood
Was a Scandanavian adult book store
I recall this fling with a goth metalhead
With a pierced labia and purple titties
She used to defile me
Make me feel lousy and sob while scribblin my little journal entries
I’m not out to fuck just malajust
Would you be my friend for a thousand bucks?
Im no solar panel plated kutcher made of granulated sugar
Due to how my confidence allowance sucks
I feel I should probably be re-sexed
If she makes me wear this full body v-neck
But my name is her with an apostrophe s
«Rarely do my yoga instructor and therapist both agree on the poor choices that
i make in my sex life
You know?
you get the commemorative tofurky?»
Happy inside
Happy inside, even though I’m frowning
Happy inside, I don’t know why I lie
«You know, all my homies need to stop hatin, really.»
Our OG looks on cozy nooks
Are under seige at the blanket fort
We’ve striken fibs of clothes pinned haters
With womens lib nomenclature
Our dinnerdates accompanied by dialysis machine beeps
In your case we should hereby screw while dressed to bee keep
What feudal queens are canoodling
With this human resource rent a wreck
When i scowl at the hole punchers and am gallop poll numbered
Say they would rather see my dick in a french press
My day is a cheech and chong mis step
And my face is a three pronged inlet, come on
«Even though, you know, you tried to put my face in a hot waffle iron
I still know that you love me inside, and I’m still feeling you»
Happy inside
Happy inside
Happy inside, I don’t know why i cry
Blocko blocko blocko blocko
Happy happy happy happy (x2)
Happy inside
Happy inside
Happy inside
Happy inside, I don’t know why i cry
Keep me draped in our calendar becomings
?
would show 'ominous' instead
Because it’s not likely
That when I’m on tour, chillin
& i freak with girls
Then I sign off on some off-shore drillin'
Simply because no broads adore us
My dry wit’s due to clogged pores
From chalk-board dust
Still I’m the shit on the vanity plates
On the tour bus for all the wrong reasons, though
Like me being an actual turd