Copyright © Eric L. Jackson 2010

I wanna kill ya, but I won’t kill ya
Because they’d promptly, throw me in jail
I would not pass go, or collect $200
And with no sunshine, would grow rather pale

And if I was pale, I would not get chicks
N’I wanna get chicks, at least two or three
So I won’t kill ya, then I won’t get pale
And I can get chicks, that seems fair to me

But in the meantime, we’ll live a dream life
We can be happy ever after and so rich
We’ll plant a garden, I’ll sing you love songs
And I’ll forget that you’re a psycho crazy bitch……oh…..

Your love feels like anarchy
Will you crack me in the groin or will you take me out for tea
A sexual insanity
Like a street corner lover turning all her tricks for free

You like bologna, and Harry Potter
And watching Nascar, and drinking cheap beer
But I like turkey, and Casablanca
And drinking wiiiiiine for my cheer

And I write love songs, for all my girlfriends
My pretty girlfriends and the pretty things they do
So grab a cold Miller Light and pull popcorn tight
‘Cause baby this one, is comin’ after you…..oh…..

Your love feels like anarchy
Will you crack me in the groin or will you take me out for tea
A sexual insanity
Like a street corner lover turning all her tricks for free

So here we sit, and you’re not dead
And I’m not in jail, at least not yet
It’s time we quit, while we’re ahead…..

Let’s pull the plug, let’s clean the slate
Let’s hit delete on every date,
Let’s park this bus, and call it fate

Your love feels like anarchy
Will you crack me in the groin or will you take me out for tea
A sexual insanity
Like a street corner lover turning all her tricks for free

Your love feels like anarchy
Will you crack me in the groin or will you take me out for tea
A sexual insanity
Like a street corner lover turning all her tricks for free