Butcher the Song

There's a time and a place
This is neither the time nor place
Where do I fit in
In this jigsaw of a relationship?
Why should I play the fall guy to your love?
I keep getting snubbed
What dumb luck, what dumb luck

So rub it in with your dumb lyrics
Yeah, that's the time and place
To wring out your bullshit
And each album I get shit on a little more

Who's Tim's latest whore?
Now, that's not fair
No, that's just obscene
I'll stop speaking for you
If you stop speaking for me

I'm writing songs to entertain
But these people they just
They, they just want pain
They wanna hear my deepest sins
The songs from the ugly organ

And what comes out is a horrible mess
Songs I can't forget, what's been said
And this guilt I can't shed
Still rings in my ears
Again at the butcher's knife
I've been screaming for years
But it gets me nowhere
Just get out the butcher's knife
Will you get out the butcher's knife?
Get out the butcher's knife

That organ's playing my song
But the song's gone on too long
What a day to sever such ugly extremities
"What a lovely day," says the butcher as he raises his arm

"And I am what is left: a puppet. Laughing at the look of amazement on the musician's face, Pinocchio dove off the cliff and swam away..."