F.A.P.T. (working title)

Well I'm the selfish animal
Diseased, the fever, got it all
Undressed, my willful, seething skin crawls

My lungs are blacker than my soul
Don't ask me why, 'cause I don't know
Just hope I die before I'm old, YEAAAAAAH

Well I'm unclean, a libertine
At least I'm more than a machine
Cruisin' in my lust patrol
Got my gun, got no control

So no one knows you like I do
Tragic tongues and words all true
Guess we didn't think this through too well

Got some pills, I'm on the run
Three shades of plastic, had my fun
My shock machine is set to stun again

Well I'm unclean, a libertine
At least I'm more than a machine
Cruisin' in my lust patrol
Got my gun, got no control

Yea, I'm unclean, a libertine
At least I'm more than a machine
Cruisin' in my lust patrol
Got my gun, got no control

So go to hell, mom and dad
No wedding bells to make you glad
And bigotry don't make you mad no more

And this is for all poison tongues
And all your drowned and broken lungs
And all the songs we've never sung again

Well I'm unclean, a libertine
At least I'm more than a machine
Cruisin' in my lust patrol
Got my gun, got no control

Yea, I'm unclean, a libertine
At least I'm more than a machine
Cruisin' in my lust patrol
Got my gun, got no control



Music by Evan Klee-Peregon
Lyrics by Evan Klee-Peregon and Sam Russ