Oh, Honey Dear, Go To Sleep; Call Up Your No Good Indie Friends

It's not my fault if I find myself
Singin' of the old crew
And that whole 'indie scene'
Me and Baby Gene used to fit in to;
So, you got us good, huh?
I swear,
I'll bite my lip
And pretend not to cry,
Even though I know
You've been talkin' shit to them all;
Oh my God, honey,
It forced me into denial
And made me sing a sweet serenade
To all of 'those' kids;
Kinny, though,
She said I was the coolest kid in school
'Cause I smoked a cigarette
And ran the streets
With a bottle of rum in hand;
You see, dear,
It's not the way my nose curves,
Or the way my braces shine
That I can't stand,
It's the way
You smooth talk me,
Because you know I've always
Had a soft spot for pot heads
And raging alcoholics;
So you can tell my mother now,
She'll give me my meds
And say:
"Oh, Honey Dear,
Won't you go to sleep?
Your mother needs time to
Reminisce about the times
Your father and I once shared,"
Dad moved out though,
He's with Lisa now,
Though he had Diane
Wrapped around his finger
Last week;
Thanks for the trying times,
Baby Gene, you and the whole gang,
Oh, God,
How you all have let me down