The Wallows

"Stinkin' shit,"
I proclaimed to the world,
Though I had no more notion then than now
Just what I was being so bitterly brilliant about.
Oh, fuck, it gets so tiresome holding on,
Keeping my proper Face on, not taking any misstep
Or falling on my ass or my melting face.

What good would it do,
What vantage could it bring
To tear out the wires or my guts again
Within the span of an infomercial,
No longer than the line is.

Spare me.
Why does it go on and on,
But then again why not?
Who have you ever met who was ept?