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Some days he feels so empty, just a talking head Married to a Klingon who'd cream him in the press God could detonate him, God's the one we pick to curse us
And 25 years pass him like an evening at the circus
There it is, the look, the winner you once talked of being
Give her one last kiss and dive right out the window screaming
No truth decent, it was summer from the waist down
She blew the troops right off your feet, tells you she's God's Grammy
Her, the only game in town, a queen of competence
Blind in front of mirrors, proving nothing says a lot
Wham bam, thank you Charles, vanity is all
You wander lonely to the scene, a-crawling up the walls