Arizona

You told me I was apathetic,
But I didn’t care.
I lost my mind in Arizona—
Can’t remember where.

While drowning in your irony,
I cannot swim ashore.
You ask if I can stay awhile,
But then you slam the door.

You say I love myself too much—
I say I love myself and I love you.
(You know I love that big ol’ butt—
I know you love my average penis too.)

While drowning in your irony,
How can I swim ashore?
Why ask if I can stay awhile
When you’ll just slam the door?

Sometimes you think I’m such a bore,
Because I never dance.
Sometimes I wonder why you stay
When I take off my pants.

Sometimes I think you’re such a whore,
And you think I’m a schmuck.
Sometimes I’m right—sometimes you are . . .
Sometimes we’re both in luck.

While drowning in your irony,
How can I swim ashore?
You ask if I can stay awhile
Then slam the goddamn door.

We killed some time in Arizona—
Lost my mind down there.
We killed that mime who grabbed your ass—
And no one seemed to care. . . .