Oh, another long-ass wasted day

                    with my life on ice,

                             my dreams on hold and I'm feelin' fuckin' old


and it ain't n-i-c-e

        'cause my back hurts and life's a pain in the ass...


	  and all this doin' nothin' wears me out


and it's tiresome to behold


          and, man, it gets old: this strife,

                       this Requiem for a Loser

this utter frustration, this suspended animation

              this sorry excuse for a life


with no anticipation of a decent destination

	            and no expectation of my true salvation...


        just blase time...ticking away,


                                            day after day


waiting for the wind to kick up in these

             meaningless doldrums on an ocean of tears


    where rocky shores are lined with wrecked dreams

	    and Davy Jones' locker holds my aspirations


in this awful combination of suspended animation

                       and vile intoxication...


          I peer out the window and spit at the traffic

                           and maybe moon a cop,


	      jump on my Harley - see how fast it goes

and I won't stop...

	                'til the engine blows!


	    But meanwhile,


in my suspended animation,


my mundane vegetation,

                   this horrible miscalculation....


I'll relax, and enjoy myself

                              'cause I like my new medication!


Now I don't feel like killing myself...


	          I feel like killin' the whole damn nation!