I’ve got skills, they don’t know where to use me
I’m like the best-dressed dude at the n*** beach
Nice to meet you

I am more the quiet type
I tend to be a shyer guy
As safe as knee and elbow pads
In cul-de-sacs with traffic lights
I spend most of my time alone
It’s not all that bad, you know
I lost some weight from anxious pacing talking on the telephone

If I look cool, I’m foolin’ you
At any point you can assume
My mind’s computing every path that screws up what I want to do
Lock the door
Seal it, too
Dancing in the panic room!

I made a promise
Now I feel nauseous
As if I chugged a cup of stuff you clean your countertops with
But no Lysol will solve this
So I am out of options
It’s past my bedtime and I’m honestly exhausted