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