Idiot the Chef

I was sucking on the doorknob While chewing on the key Then snuck in through the window To help preserve my knees When do i get to go When do i get to stay I could bite my nails to the elbow Or i could just wait I was giving everything i have to you And i found that my trash picking was the best thing i could do Get to licking all the wounds Now we funnel in the salt Going to get so high and low Now it’s all your fault All of the stoplights are out today so i’ll chance it and coast They always win but i’m a dictator of a small plot of land Don’t pluck flowers with the hand i’m holding I need to hoard only a few things all for myself Otherwise i start to get so nervous