New York Minute

Well, there's a hundred other songs held hostage in my head
When you're writing in the show, there's no paper or no pen
So save the last line for me
Yeah, i'm a poet, I'm a poser, I'm a lyrical disaster
If the smart would go slower and the dumb would go faster
I know I'll be all that you want me to be
So relax, be cool
It'll all come back in a minute times two
When we realize just who it is that we gotta be
Well, there's a hundred other places that I know I could be
But I'm riding in the desert or I'm drowning in the sea
Either way, I'm another dichotomy
And I'm sick of all the girls, think they gotta be bitches
But it doesn't turn me on, it only leaves me twitching
So stop acting like you got somewhere to be
So relax, be cool
It'll all come back in a minute times two
When we realize just who it is that we gotta be
So while you're sitting getting pretty with your sideways hair
Hurry, take a self picture, hold the camera in the air
It's the only good angle where you look nothing like you at all
That's all
We're all here for a celebration, not a dedication
To the fallen victims of a tired scene
Let me hear you clap your hands on the way out