the only true anti-poser song

It must be the ganja, its the marijuana
creepin up on me, while im so highh

maybe its the henne, that has gotten in me
whatevers got into me, i dont mind

I'm sorry
For something I didn't do
Lynched somebody
But I don't know who
You blame me for slavery
A hundred years before I was born

Guilty of being white

I'm a convict
Of a racist crime
I've only served
19 years of my time

Guilty of being white

Mary Jane's addiction is cocaine and pulp fiction and if you're itchin’ for a fix this is the place you come to get some.
She leads me to the back where I find the kingpin drinkin’ jack and coke and playin’ poker with a couple of dope-smokin’ jokers.
He says, "take a hit off the bong brother" and I don’t wanna blow my cover, so I have a little hoot and it sends me through the roof.
When I'm as high as the sky I hear someone say where'd you get this guy, angel? Is he F.B.I., local swine, or a Texas ranger?

Takin' more than her share
Had me fighting for air
She told me to come but I was already there

Keep Bleeding Keep Keep Bleeding Love

wat?

Hang on to me, people
we're going down
Down among the fishes
in an absence of sound

It's the presence of distance
and it's floating in time
Well, it's lack. And it's longing
and it's not very kind.

There's blood on the moon and the summer is cold
There's love in the room but baby that's gettin' old
There's blood on my face sittin' on a dead shore
A highway of emptiness and I'm gettin' bored