Another night of too much cough syrup
  i'm awacked by the incessant ringing of
  a telephone
  i still have dreams caked in the corners of
  my eyes and my mouth is dry and tasted shitty
  
  again the ringin
  
  slowly i bustle out of bed
  they remants of an errection 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 falls
  which always seems to precede my daily contribution to the 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 temain causing a small acreage of wetness
  on the front of my briefs
  i slowly languidly,jazily,crazily
  stumble into the den
  where my father smokes his guitars
  i mean cigars in his easy chair
  i know all about easy chairs
  an then i sing a song for my friend
  
  jesus is my boyfriend,jesus is my boyfriend
  you can't have him, because jesus is my boyfriend
  
  ringing ringing
  dang it goddamn motherfucking son-of-a-bitch
  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 once 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