Still Life With Hot Deuce On Silver Platter

You're going through phases -
Are you some kind of man
Or a moon?
Either way, these here boots
They're gonna walk
All over you
It's all true, isn't it?
There's no real altruism, kid
It's just a new set of clothes
On the same old selfishness
- cold piss!

Out, walking the street
Looking for these
Alleged elegant truths
It's just me
Lonely me
And the other relevant dudes
Arrogant enough to believe
This is developing news
I exist just as a fish
Stuck with the pelican blues
- hot deuce!

Here it goes again
I hear you took it to another level
Here it goes again

Tonight i'm crying for a baby
Who's never going to be born
My authentic self was aborted
At the age of four

You know i'll always be a junkie
You see me spread across the floor
1-2-3-4-5-6-7 angels
Don't come around no more

But i'm not gonna cry
I'm not gonna cry
I'm not gonna cry
Thinkin' bout that baby
But i'm gonna die
Die if i don't try
Try to bring that man to life

But what of the classic contest,
Content versus context?
They have a fight -
Context wins
Con men contact content's next of kin,
Saying “i'm looking for your least-feminine lesbian
We're gonna pump her so full of bovine estrogen
She won't be masculine, i'm high on mescaline
But no one knows, 'cause i shit on some mexicans”
- hot deuce!