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Lyrics
I am a sad sack
You can fit me in your backpack
Stuffed way down in the bottom where everything is pitch black
I am lunch sack
Just apple cores and fruit snacks
With way too many problems for you to have to unpack
I am literally way beyond the need for help
And I'm way too fucking anxious to help myself
I can be your monster or just an end to a means
I can be a better tool than a friend or fiend
So when your boss has finally gone too far
There's no easier way to retire
So just pick up the phone and call a murder person for hire!
You're playing blackjack
With a deck that is all black
Only kings and queens up your sleeve with a very handy card stack
I can bring a rucksack
Fill it with guns and wear a face mask
And with a bulletproof vest I'll wait 'til it's time to get some payback
I am literally way beyond the need for help
And I'm way too fucking anxious to help myself
I can be your monster or just an end to a means
I can be a better tool than a friend or fiend
So when your dad has finally gone too far
There's no easier way to retire
There's no better queer to admire!
So just pick up the phone
Just pick up the phone
Just pick up the phone and call a murder person for hire!