Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' roll

This is a desk job
A data entry five-to-niner
Yeah, I guess I'm my own boss
But everyone's my supervisor

Tell me what kind of living legend
Would only want a living wage?
Because I just turned 27
And I'm dying of old age

Guess I'm just selfish
I wanna have but not be had
And I think "can I sell this?"
The rainfall's a windfall the fourth wall a paywall
Whenever things get bad

So this is what I choose to do
With my redeeming quality
That thing that came from the same place as my
Instability
It's not a gift if you pay for it
And I don't want no charity
I spent all my years to end up right here
And now I really think I'd rather leave

Cause I hate sex, I hate drugs
And I hate rock n' roll
And I hate music and my
Lack of self-control
And I hate sex, I hate drugs
And I hate rock n' roll
And I hate proving that
I'm still human after all

It's the death of the author
You read between white chalk outlines
Well if the pen's that much stronger
Then call this Harakiri as I kamikaze to my career suicide

I hate these Easter bunny encores
Two and four beat claps
Stockade stages, applause and praise
And trying to chuck tomatoes back

News-feeds, groupies, critics, analytics, and
Starry-eyed stalkers who demand a man in lipstick
And a role model psycho but an echo in their chamber
Martyr to their dollar but a baby in a manger

Effigy on the altar
The parish they brandish their
Torches and sway to this love song
Screaming "Virginia, walk on my water!"
Their apocryphal daughters with Nerf armor and AR's who want me
Caught with red hands cut my wrists and make me put white gloves on

So go ahead sure, drink my Kool-aid
It wouldn't mix well with my meds
But there's demand and a market for my brand-scars
And I can't treat the trademarks in my head
I hate to be "that guy," but I'm not that guy anymore
And I made God damn sure he's dead
And I would dance on his grave, but the music I play
Seems to say take me instead. So

I hate sex, I hate drugs
And I hate rock n' roll
And I hate music and my
Lack of self-control
And I hate sex, I hate drugs
And I hate rock n' roll
And I hate music
Yeah, I hate you kids
And I hate putting up fourth walls
And I hate proving that
I'm still human after all

I hate proving that
I'm still human