Waiting for the Punchline

At the back of your house
At the end of my rope
I put my foot into it this time good
I’m grinding teeth
Just don’t think about it
We used to joke about it:
«Let's have lunch sometime»
Waiting for the punchline
That punchline
Well if money talks
Must be losing my hearing
If opportunity knocked
I guess I wasn’t home
But you’re giving in
Giving in by inches
If you can’t see that
You must be going blind
Waiting for the punchline
Whoo!
Picture this:
Hung head, hung jury, well hungover
Sitting in my stinking dead man’s shoes
With a blister-dick stuck in the crack of the past
Like the holy waiting to roll
Counting off the fractures in my argument
So I have a few beers to loosen the gears
So I have a few beers to loosen the gears
And we stagger on the bridge in anticipation
Leap for joy at the abomination
New words for the same old affliction
White blues with a bad complexion
Four black wannabes, one nigga hater
I hate the idea
But just dig this conclusion
You know, I hate the idea
But just dig this conclusion
Dig this conclusion
Whoo!
Oh, get off my back
Easy on the upholstery
This race has run me ragged
Time to change my skin
I can’t get no sleep
And I’m tired of trying
Insomnia’s another word
For too much on your mind
Waiting for the punchline
Waiting for the punchline