You�ll never know what I mean

This song makes me want to find an old pickup
A grey piece of s**t
Because that’s my favorite color.
I’d never drive it
But it’d be where I’d go
To drink cold cans of beer
And listen to the radio.
Park it on top of a hill
Looking over a drive in movie
So I could take dates up there for free
The silence doesn’t bother us.

Do you hate me because I can’t play guitar?
I hate myself
But for other reasons.
When I look in the mirror
I can stare long enough
Until I forget I’m the person I’m looking at
And the stranger eyeing me a foot away
Needs to lose some weight and shave.

The charcoal blazer is hanging in the laundry room
Back home.
There’s a Hawaiian postcard in the pocket
From someone who cared enough once
To take the time to send it.
I remember who it was.
She had dick sucking lips.

Remember that guy
Who lived in a trailer
Over at the campground
Next to the mom and pop convenience store
That sold homemade egg salad sandwiches
Wrapped in saran wrap.
He wore a stupid hat
Like an Errol Flynn Robin Hood.

My refrigerator is too cold
So it makes my diet wild cherry pepsi
A fizzless glass of slush.

I wish you could be here
You right there.
Whoever is reading this
I want you to be peeking over my shoulder
At this exact moment
While I type these words out
And the keyboard makes the familiar
Clacking sound of key strokes.
I want you to see me rocking in my chair
Picking my nose
And Scratching my a*s
That’s where true creativity comes from.
Just do simple s**t you do everyday
And eventually they’ll call you Genius.