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I'm in a meat pack plant by the gutterside
A slaughterhouse apartment with a slice of lime
I'm cruisin' with the bruisers, boozin'
I'll be a suitor, losing my mind
Because there's nothing to find (laughter)
The fetid stench of bad intentions hangs in the sweat
I’m in a sauna with my trauma, and I’m tryin’ to forget
How a [?]seasoned company’s warned me, warning
Imminent pleasure’s ready to cut to the bone

You said “let loose,” but now you’re lost (laughter)
While I tied my boots like a tightrope noose
The problem chased the taste of the cause
While the evidence supports the truth
Is 80 enough proof for you? (Where you goin', Boots?)

Here’s to my lady, and I’m coming inside (Grandma's house!)
Drink to me, baby, and what’s left of what’s right (laughter)
It’s easier to use and lose than never to have used you
On a f**ked up Saturday night (You can't cross the bridge, 'cause I'm the troll!)
Good times on Front Street (laughter)

"Makes me feel like Ms. Pac Man."
"Welcome to the merry-round. The merry go round?"
"Ms. Pac Man!"
"Is that William Sunshine?"
Here’s to my lady, and I’m coming inside (Aw, b*******!)
Drink to me, baby, and what’s left of what’s right (Haha!)
It’s easier to use and lose than never to have used you
On a f**ked up Saturday night
Good times... (In Auschwitz!)
In Auschwitz. (I'm still the troll.)
He's the troll!

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