Gallons of Rubbing Alcohol Flow Through the Strip

It hurts when you have to press that dull little thing

That you're only supposed to use once and then discard

But where do you put it? In the garbage can, my honest friend

My shyness, pet her flow

She's only been five months late

Even though we haven't had sex for a week

A meal a day, a meal, I say

And my heart's made, my—

Somebody else already used the word, "Aurora Borealis"

She was tied up in chains and Sam had helped her in the freezer

She's only five weeks late

But I haven't had a date forever

Ever

Ever

Forever

Wish I had more

More opportunity

More chances to remember some things

So I couldn't have so much pressure on my—

On my, on my, um—

Uh, on my

Um, um

My head

We'd have so much more diversity

And so much more input

So much more creative flow

If we had someone in school, a G-I-T

G-I-T

Geeks in town

Come on, Dave, think of one

Girls in trouble

It should be GIC, geeks with charvels

No, GWC

Fuck, man, this is a waste of time

One more solo?

Yeah!

Yeah!

You're personally responsible for

The entire strip to be washed away

Cleansed, as if gallons of, um, rubbing alcohol

Flowed through the strip and were set on fire

It didn't just singe the hair, it made it straight

And then Perry Ellis came along with his broom

And his silk

And he—

He erected a beautiful city

A city of stars