Down To This

You get the ankles and I'll get the wrists

You get the ankles and I'll get the wrists

You get the ankles and I'll get the wrists

You come down to thisNerves are up

And the eyes all screwy

Blood like a painful

Of boiling ratatouilleMy muscles in a mess

Like a mess of spaghetti

Hack through the mess

With a greased-up macheteHang from the axles of a box car

Follow the dotted line

Like a steer to Chicago

But to the hooks of the Chicago manI get all tripped up

My eyes turn to water

Rug burns from a shag rug

Struck dumb in the presencePolyester burns from a jacket

Rub the skin thin

Break down in a diner

Then I paid the billCashier toothpick stuck in the ground

Tiny lawnmower to mow me down

I could get lost in a lunch box

Lie low in the mittens in the lost and found