Cute Thing

I got so fucking romantic I apologize, let me light your cigarette Come visit Kansas for a week of debauchery Songs and high fives and weird sex Cute thing Don't be rude thing Hot thing It was nothing God Give me Frank Ocean's voice And James Brown's stage presence I will be your rock, God, when you're rolling the dice I got so fucking romantic I apologize, let me smoke your weed, no wait Healthy minds make sexy bodies Let us touch so much of ourselves together Cute thing (cute thing, cute thing) Don't be rude thing (don't be rude, don't be rude thing) Hot thing (hot thing, hot thing) It was nothing (it was nothing, it was nothing) Dog (ooh ooh) Give me one little chance (ooh ooh) I can make you a man (ooh ooh) I will be your rock, dog, when you're rolling your eyes (Ooh, ooh, ooh) (Ooh, ooh, ooh) (Ooh, ooh, ooh) (Do do do, do do do, do do) (Do do do, do do do, do do) (Do do do, do do do, do do) (Do do do, do do do, do do) He died in an explosion Of mixed media and poorly written reviews And some stammering drunk who tried to tell him how good his shit was "That's- that's, ah- that's- that's some good- good shit, man" I accidentally spoke his first name aloud Trying to make it fit in with the lyrics of "Ana Ng" Worked like a charm We're getting old When will we walk in each other's majestic presence? Listen, hear my words They're the ones you would think I would say if I was John Linnell Or trying to be John Linnell I am love I am love I would sleep naked Next to you naked I am love I am love I would sleep naked Next to you naked I am love I am love Like some excommunicated priest Casting demons, asked one what its name was