Tiny man, chubby man,
a trembling scruffy, lazy man
sculpting with my puffy hands
an idol to my pride's demands.
Tonight I need to be redeemed.
I'm in the nude inhaling ice cream,
talking to my dogs.
See something I can believe in.
It's just the jolt that I'm needing.
Chew at the seam of this fracture.
It's just the freedom I'm after.
One night I'll fail to remember.
One night apart from my gender.
No phallic need for ambition.
Help me escape from this kitchen.

I'm wasted. I'm wasted. I'm wasted. I'm wasted.
Oh I'm wasted, I taste it

Tiny mind, tiny mind
someone flog my tiny mind.
The internet has humped me blind.
I think I smoked too much this time.
I hear the call of something pure
luring me out of my door,
so I'm headed out now
into the throb of "no culture,"
into the wreckage of alters.
An altered state and an ending.
No petty, putrid pretending.
Let's band together and belt it
out to the marrow they melted.
You've got a finger, now use it.
No need for ambivalent music.

I'm wasted. I'm wasted. I'm wasted. I'm wasted.
Oh, I taste it, I taste it, I taste it

And she said:
"You're on my tongue like a tab of poison.
I'm gonna wake with an anvil brain,
so if you want,
stumble home with me, boy.
I'll be the Ripley to your John McClane.
Oh God, amnesia is a revelation.
I chew the root and the White House burns,
and as my eyes tumble back in my head,
my fate erupts,
and my insides churn you out.

Lyrics submitted by cjlindman, edited by kelleybean

John McClane (feat. Chris Conley & Matt Pryor) song meanings
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