Skyscrapers, they get lonely (it’s true)
I can hear the pope screaming “Oh please, bone me”
I have elevator men for friends
And everyone wonders why I’m not dead yet

Here’s why
Punk rock, goth rock
Death metal, Tom Jones

Burn down the new fit lost of free
I am the new hunk choreography
I can hear your favorite radio stations laughing at me
Even [?] won’t steal my CDs

This a [?] and life is meaningless
But in a couple of years you’ll pay to eat my shit
But for now I only have elevators for friends
I’m repeating myself but let’s just play pretend

Here we go
Move bitch, um, get out of the way
Move bitch, get out of the way
Move bitch, get out of the way
Uh, move bitch, get out of the way

Burn down the new philosophy
I am the new hunk choreography
I can hear your favorite radio stations laughing at me
Even [?] won’t steal my CD