That Black Bat Licorice

What?

Behave yourself

Behave yourself

You need to behave yourself, boy

Yeah, she's built for speed like a black castrum doloris

Good for the needy, like Nietzsche, Freud and Horace

But I'm skin, flint, broke, making no money, making jokes

But baby, I won't joke with you

My feet are burning like a Roman hypocaust

But the Romans are gone, they changed their name because they lost

She writes letters like a Jack Chick comic

Just a bunch of propaganda, make my fingers histrionic; like this, and this

I mean, she's my baby

But she makes me get avuncular

And when my monkey is jumping

I got no time for making up for her

I fantasize about the hospital

The army, asylum, confinement, in prison

Any place where there's a time to clear my vision

I spit it out

Whatever's in my mouth

Just like that Black Bat Licorice

Yeah, that Black Bat Licorice

That Black Bat Licorice

That Black Bat Licorice

Yeah

I wanna cut out my tongue and let you hold onto it for me

Cause without my skull to amplify my sounds it might get boring

I've got the wit of the stickers with atomic clock precision

And the phases of the moon directing all of my decisions like this

Women need to know, I play dumb like Columbo

And get my feelings hurt and move to NY like I'm Dumbo

Don't you want to lose the part of the brain that has opinions?

To not even know what you are doing, or care about yourself or your species in the billions

Yeah, I have to spit it out

Oh, whatever's in my mouth

I have to spit it out (behave your self)

Just like that Black Bat Licorice

That Black Bat Licorice

That Black Bat Licorice, I never liked it, I never will

Now state the same damn thing with the violin

Whatever you feed me

I feed you right back

But it will do no good