Que Sriracha from Bumfuzzle by Sponkers

I'm sick of cigarettes
So much it hurts
Still I smoke cigarettes like some jerk

I'm sick of cigarettes
Clinging to cherubs' breath
I'm sick of cigarettes

And what happened to this head?
Where's my Sigmund Freud;
An absent mind to circumspect some prolonged, benign negelct
Neglect brought us here, I guess
I want a cigarette as the rancorously odorous cherubs' breath still reeks of cigarettes

People are stupid
And then they die, and that's what makes me happy
If money is time
Which one am I wasting more and that's what keeps me wondering

Is everyone this neurotic or is it just me?
Que Sriracha; what'll be will be
And it's a la-dee-da-da la-dee-da-da-da-da
I don't wanna sleep alone
Que sera sera
Se la vie; what'll be will be

One in a million
Food allergy
Some swollen-throated soliloquy

My gut is murdering my head
So barren-spirited and full of all that bread
And what is celiac disease?
It's a million degrees
This real infectious kryptonyte is dressed to look like wheat
And who put this on my plate?
Self-imposed self hate;
A malignantly ponderous conundrum of what I think I ate

People are stupid
And then they die, and that's what makes me happy
If money is time
Which one am I wasting more and that's what keeps me wondering

Is everyone this neurotic or is it just me?
Que Sriracha; what'll be will be
And it's a la-dee-da-da la-dee-da-da-da-da
I don't wanna sleep alone
Que sera sera
Se la vie; what'll be will be

• Alternative rock
• Rock
• garage pop
• indie rock
• slacker rock
• songwriter
• Boston