This is a cause for celebration here in the belly of the swarm
The situation demands that we raise our glasses
In honor of the spokesman weve fixated to the floor
Give us your headline hymns and your saddest verseYoure not partnered with the half-hearted anymore
Out legs are spread wide open
Our weary heads are splitting at the seams
And we all know youre proficient in the idioms of griefWe are capable of the kind of love about which
Only the petrified can speak
Concede him the microphone let him sing
The triumph of the frauds to all his loyal psychofanaticsWe all cater to the fire
Once the walls come rushing down for shame
I can say it better than you felt it
And I can be it bigger than you needed itI havent lived a day of my life apart
From the one that everyones read about
Ill spark de-evolution
I was specially bred for the cover page of your magazinesIve been fatted up for the guillotines
Sweet talker, youre goddamn, right, Im a blessed lamb
I can show you all how to have a good time
I know why you came hereBut neither of us will get what you want out of me
This room has one too many laureates so Im keeping my peace
Every candidate ends his life with a clich
And the paths of glory lead to nowhere but the graveIve been spoiled rotten
Every thought Ive authored had curdled
Not everything is poetry but I cant convince you of that
Ive been drawn and quartered, Ive been twice picked overAnd its sickening what youve come here today to celebrate
Fuck, yeah, were gonna party tonight
I am capable of the kind of love about which only the intoxicated
And the California bound can weep