| Michael:
|
| They take our dear girl Katy into a room with windows closed
|
| And make her take the tansan, what I’d call a heroic dose
|
| And sure enough, ten minutes later, she disappears and hell
|
| I swear all them government jackals all start just about peein' themselves
|
| Katy:
|
| A thousand little slaps a thousand kicks when you are down
|
| The stabs with daggers as you just begin to turn around
|
| The blithe offhand abasements 'til there’s tears upon your face
|
| A thousand days that casually just make your poor heart break
|
| A thousand little slanders slap the ice cream from your hand
|
| When you were tear-stained and defenseless that’s when the real insults began
|
| The glee with which a thousand petty cruelties are adhered
|
| Your defilement is something they either love or do not care
|
| I hope you bleed and rot in places where the sun will never shine
|
| And the stench makes all around you in disgust recoil and cry
|
| I hope you all start choking 'til you beg for one last breath
|
| I hope your lives all spiral into pestilence and death
|
| You can all go burn in bonfires where you shriek in ghastly pain
|
| And I hope I live to see it, I hope I get to light the flame
|
| I am done being your victim, watching all your heartless deeds
|
| Your death I hope’s asphyxiation on excrement in extreme
|
| Michael:
|
| Well this is all years ago now, in a place that’s far away
|
| A place about which other people like me have had lots more to say
|
| Ther. |
| there’s been big ol' grand sagas and sweeping, epic regales
|
| Some that have sat and heard it even say it’s it’s all just characters in tales
|
| But each one of them characters is a whole world, each one’s a big deal
|
| Every passion and longing and heartbreak and doomed struggle, they’re all real
|
| I just tell their stories, I cry every time
|
| Drown myself here in, I know, much too much wine
|
| But whether or not I wonder how much longer I can take
|
| Telling these tales, so many stories, and so much goddamn pain
|
| All right, but this tale’s about Katy, who’s taken that damn drug
|
| And finds herself transported to a prairie in another time and thus
|
| She sees that damn folder that caused all this fool fuss
|
| And so she goes ahead and just picks the thing on up
|
| But then she starts walking, cuz she figures she’s got
|
| About mmmm. |
| two more hours 'til this drug wears itself on off
|
| She aims to keep walking as far as she can get
|
| Far from that warehouse, the police, and the life that she has led |