Telephone

Another night of too much cough syrup

I'm awakened by the incessant ringing of a telephone

I still have dreams caked in the corners of my eyes

And my mouth is dry and tastes shitty

Again the ringing

Slowly I bustle out of bed

The remnants of an erection

Still lingering in my shorts

Like a bothersome guest

Again the ringing

Carefully I abscond to the bathroom

As to not display my manhood to others

There I make the perfunctory morning faces

Which always seem to precede my daily

Contribution to the once blue toilet water

That I always enjoy making green

Again the ringing

I shake twice like most others

And I'm annoyed by the dribble

That always seems to remain

Causing a small acreage of wetness

On the front of my briefs

I slowly languidly lazily crazily stumble into the den

Where my father smokes his guitars

I mean cigars in his easy chair

I know all about easy chairs

And then I sing a song for my friends

Jesus is my boyfriend Jesus is my boyfriend

You can't have him because Jesus is my boyfriend

Ringing ringing

Dang it goddamn motherf**king son of a b**ch is ringing

I walk into the kitchen and I stare blankly

At that shrieking plastic bastard since it keeps ringing

I know it's her and since it keeps ringing she knows it's me

We are the world we are the children

We are the ones who make a darker day

So let's start killing

There's a choice you're making

We're sparing our own lives

It's true we'll make a darker day

Just you and me