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How to Serve Man (The Meanest Things I'd Never Say)
El‐P
Popularity · Moderate
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🇬🇧 English · Original
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ì I would really prefer not to tell you what's going on in my head right now.
I really wanna know. I'm not going to hold it against you, I promise I'm a big boy, I can handle it, just tell me what's going on in your head...
ìMr. Chambers, don't get on that ship! The rest of the book, to serve man, it's- it's a cook book!
That's not a hand, it's a claw
And this is not a song, it's an exorcism of numbness
We are not in my bedroom anymore, it's a prison camp that I've been stuck in
This isn't skin, it's a scramble suit with a thousand me's rotating
That's not your mouth, that's a boredom generator powered by irritation
We aren't a couple, we're isolationists who to try to use the buddy system
And that wasn't sex, it was a competition for power that I'm clearly winning
But that's not victory, matter of fact I think I'm better off forfeiting
You go for de gold, girl, I'm about to bounce out to Deadwoods Hills for cleaner living
And I really do
I hope it all works out like you want it to
This is not Brooklyn, it's a colony of wayward bees without a queen
And we're not people, we're like Sims controlled by childish deities
But see we're alive now and it's not time we're wasting here
Nah this is life and you're so (pretty)
Like the gleam off that blade when you slipped my ribs the shivy
This ain't a break up, I like to think of it as a stay of execution
And that's not the air I'm clearing, it's the wispy trails of our cumulus pollution
And that's not despair you're feeling, it's the petulant reaction of a wounded child
And that's not the door I'm looking at, it's an escape hatch to the zeppelin we're inside
And I really do
I hope it all works out like you want it to
You're not a woman, you're a piranha with cuttlerry for dentured up smile
And I'm not a man, I'm an incomplete punchline of a joke I don't understand
That's not your diary, it's a cook book and I'm your favourite chapter when you're bored
And that's not a love letter, it's a recipe for the same slop you served before
This ain't an insult, it's the clearest truth I've ever had the misery to speak
These aren't words, these are the terms of my surrender and defeat
But I'm not sorry beyond the sorry nature of existing with no plans
Please don't touch me, just wave goodbye with that claw that not's a hand
Did I mention that...
I hope it all works out like you want it to and I really do...