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Good Morning - you up

A deer was in the headlights
'Till shattering the windshield
A bee thrown behind by autumn
Just another bleedin' insect left for dead

You up for sale? You up for sex?
You up for talking just a bit?
Not a whole lot though

I drove straight to Terra Madre
'Cause I wanted to tell them
That I was on BrooklynVegan once
And I didn't really like it all that much
And I learned it happened anyway
Something to complain about
And I'd do it all again
If it meant gettin' to be mad
And if we know that we're not different
And we know that we're ambivalent
To each other
Maybe let's just stick
Yeah, one-two-three-four

And in the interest of silence
I've been tryin' not to call you
I know two can play at that game
I've been playin' for longer than I care to admit
And it breeds resentment
But it stops any argument from spreadin'
To where it hurts

Why won't you tell me fuck off?
Why won't you tell me fuck off?
Why won't you tell me fuck off?
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