Sold out of my seed
And my fuel tank runs on empty
There are condoms on the street
Beneath my feet, I'm filled with envy
At the dollars I have spent
Gone and went, just like the empty
Nights playing songs to no one
Hearing something saying nothing
But I know that, but I know that
I hate all of my songs
They are so obtuse and obscene
If you could understand the lyrics
You'd know exactly what I mean
I hate every band in town
In the state and in the world
Wish I could write just one hit song
To show I'm special and I'm learned
But I know that, but I know that I'm not
But I know that, but I know that I'm wrong
But I know that, but I know that I'm shit
But I know that, but I know that
I can't decide how songs should sound
Who or what to be around
What to read who to believe
And so you see, my tank is empty
Like the condoms on the street
Or the cash from my sweet dreams
I am nothing but a stream
Of human waste and ingenuity