Butcher The Song

There’s a time and a place
This is neither the time nor the place
«Where do I fit in
In this jigsaw of a relationship?
Why should I play the fall guy to your love?
I keep getting snubbed…
What dumb luck, what dumb luck»
«So rub it in
In your dumb lyrics
Yeah, that’s the time and place
To wring out your bullshit
And each album I’ll get shit on a little more»
«Who's Tim’s latest whore?'»
Now, that’s not fair
No, that’s just obscene
I’ll stop speaking for you
If you stop speaking for me
I’m writing songs to entertain
But these people, they just, they just want pain
They want to hear my deepest sins
The songs from the ugly organ
And what comes out is a horrible mess
Songs I can’t forget
What’s been said and this guilt I can’t shed
It still rings in my ears
Oh, get out the butcher’s knife
I’ve been screaming for years
But it gets me nowhere
Just get out the butcher’s knife
Will you get out the butcher’s knife
Get out the butcher’s knife! Oh
That organ’s playing my song
But this song’s gone on too long
What a day to sever such ugly extremities
«What a lovely day,» says the butcher
As he raises his arm
And I am what is left: a puppet
Laughing at the look of amazement on the musician’s face
Pinocchio dove off the cliff and swam away