Feels like mayday disorder. Emotional rats were rotting vegetables (Swept back?) in my crispy crab's (claws?) Feels like pussy vendetta (? think you're better?) Here comes up a hyped up driver In her color champagne red I think I'll miss the party lights, Haircuts, and corduroy designs In a house that smacks the? We heard it smack the front In useless conversation, That is what we smack and Come over to the kids and corners The amateur QB They have a subtle secret That girls could someday keep. I can see the party's winding down Though it's barely off the ground Now the guests are climbing on the host Boasting one more suicide to toast Running low on cigarettes? It shows. (Solo) None of this is (really scripted?) None of this is unintended None of this is consequential Oh it's so unoriginal (X4) I can see the party's winding down Although it's barely off the ground. (Dog piles?) tight clothes White eyes, white noses. I think I miss those party lights. (Instrumental/solo) (X2) I can see the party's winding down Though it's barely off the ground. It's winding down, I can see the party's winding down.