The hole in my gut helps me breathe much better.
It opens me up like a trusted confessor.
It brings out my eyes like a scarlet letter.
Most people tell me it’s my greatest feature.
I’m not real sure how I sprung this leak, see,
Or how a single hole could drain a man empty.
I do know this, though, I got it early—
The worms that prove it trail their halos around me.
It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s loyal and steadfast.
Sticks with me through all my tries for happiness,
Thinkin’ I’ll rest from chasin’ happiness
Thinkin’ I’ll chase it with a loaded shot glass.
It used to be so small and discreet,
Now little old ladies offer it their bus seats,
And people greet it whenever we meet,
While random surgeons treat it in the streets.
It’s now a pretty deep wound, it penetrates to the soul,
A mineshaft full of dead canaries and coal.
I’m not real sure how I’ll make it through the year, though
That’s the same thing that I said a year’go.
It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s loyal and steadfast.
Sticks with me through all my tries for happiness,
Thinkin’ I’ll rest from chasin’ happiness
Thinkin’ I’ll chase it with a loaded shot glass.
It’s come to define me, to this I’ll admit,
But give me a bit, it gets more pathetic:
I’d get rid of me just to get rid of it—
To be stripped of meaning would be so fantastic
“More pain than man” will be my epitaph;
It’s also the punch line that gets the most laughs.
If you charted my life on a Cartesian graph,
The line would drop straight down like a fallen seraph.
It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s loyal and steadfast.
Sticks with me through all my tries for happiness,
Thinkin’ I’ll rest from chasin’ happiness
Thinkin’ I’ll chase it with a loaded shot glass.