Sidenote by Qixote Lyrics
Two a.m., I’m walking on the cobblestone —
On the phone with mama, can’t say I’m alone
Inhaling pheromones from the sweater that you loaned to me —
It belongs to me. You belong to me. I belong to you;
That’s some bullshit (just like these songs to you)
Bet it dawned on you that I’m spawn of Lucifer —
Satan to you
Both you and I know
That in the not so distant future I'm bound
To get drafted into the nuclear war
Girl, if you find my suicide note
It's cause they tried to get me shooting up folk
It'll be in the handwriting of t-r-u-m-p's own
Sorry bout the times I put you on blast;
That's that student-athlete-shit
I hate to dwell upon the past
But if I'm Future, you're my Actavis
In other words, I fear I love you more than I love words
And girl it hurts for me to hear myself more than it burns
The heart of Mr. Burns—actually I don’t watch The Simpsons
So I’mma quit this. You and me are going North Korea:
Trying long distance; ain’t nothing like
The path of least resistance, right?
But all I do is pace around the house in boxers seeking purpose in existence. I
I I rolls funny cross the tongue
Like seagulls on the shore
Like a fly upon the dung
Like salt upon the sore
Like a fly trapped in a window screen
I breathe the water from your pores
And feel it ripple into me;
And now that water’s in my lungs
But the lifeguard’s out for tea
Both you and I know
That in the not so distant future I'm bound
To get drafted into the nuclear war
Girl, if you find my suicide note
It's cause they tried to get me shooting up folk
It'll be in the handwriting of t-r-u-m-p's own
Summer ‘17, a nightmare or a dream?
Eight a day and five a week
With coffee-stained cushions beneath my ass cheeks
I don’t take a lunch, just take a plate and stuff my face
And watch the pixelating screen
Email email carbon copy copy copy
What am I, a cog in a machine?
The sun is setting; close the office down, hop into the CRV
I grab a silver napkin from the glovebox and
Wipe the tears from my eyes before they stream
I start the car but keep the music off
Don’t want no reminders of what I’ll never be
Spent a thousand on the sound system but tell me
What the fuck’s a dollar with no dream?
Apologies for all the shit I threw on you-and-me. You can
Eliminate from your to-do the truth of you resenting me
I miss the way the south would dribble out you--apple from the pie
But life is bland as sesame, and I just want to die
I’m a . . . krabby patty and loyal customers gotta eat
What’s the key to the secret recipe?
Covfefe
I say I’m going away
But you don’t (you don’t) want no going-away
I say I’m going away
But you don’t (you don’t) want no go-away-play
I say I’m going away
But you don’t (you don’t) hold back, “Go, on your way.”
I say I’m going away
You say, “I hope they crash your Boeing today.”
Both you and I know
That in the not so distant future I'm bound
To get drafted into the nuclear war
Girl, if you find my suicide note
It's cause they tried to get me shooting up folk
It'll be in the handwriting of t-r-u-m-p's own
On the phone with mama, can’t say I’m alone
Inhaling pheromones from the sweater that you loaned to me —
It belongs to me. You belong to me. I belong to you;
That’s some bullshit (just like these songs to you)
Bet it dawned on you that I’m spawn of Lucifer —
Satan to you
Both you and I know
That in the not so distant future I'm bound
To get drafted into the nuclear war
Girl, if you find my suicide note
It's cause they tried to get me shooting up folk
It'll be in the handwriting of t-r-u-m-p's own
Sorry bout the times I put you on blast;
That's that student-athlete-shit
I hate to dwell upon the past
But if I'm Future, you're my Actavis
In other words, I fear I love you more than I love words
And girl it hurts for me to hear myself more than it burns
The heart of Mr. Burns—actually I don’t watch The Simpsons
So I’mma quit this. You and me are going North Korea:
Trying long distance; ain’t nothing like
The path of least resistance, right?
But all I do is pace around the house in boxers seeking purpose in existence. I
I I rolls funny cross the tongue
Like seagulls on the shore
Like a fly upon the dung
Like salt upon the sore
Like a fly trapped in a window screen
I breathe the water from your pores
And feel it ripple into me;
And now that water’s in my lungs
But the lifeguard’s out for tea
Both you and I know
That in the not so distant future I'm bound
To get drafted into the nuclear war
Girl, if you find my suicide note
It's cause they tried to get me shooting up folk
It'll be in the handwriting of t-r-u-m-p's own
Summer ‘17, a nightmare or a dream?
Eight a day and five a week
With coffee-stained cushions beneath my ass cheeks
I don’t take a lunch, just take a plate and stuff my face
And watch the pixelating screen
Email email carbon copy copy copy
What am I, a cog in a machine?
The sun is setting; close the office down, hop into the CRV
I grab a silver napkin from the glovebox and
Wipe the tears from my eyes before they stream
I start the car but keep the music off
Don’t want no reminders of what I’ll never be
Spent a thousand on the sound system but tell me
What the fuck’s a dollar with no dream?
Apologies for all the shit I threw on you-and-me. You can
Eliminate from your to-do the truth of you resenting me
I miss the way the south would dribble out you--apple from the pie
But life is bland as sesame, and I just want to die
I’m a . . . krabby patty and loyal customers gotta eat
What’s the key to the secret recipe?
Covfefe
I say I’m going away
But you don’t (you don’t) want no going-away
I say I’m going away
But you don’t (you don’t) want no go-away-play
I say I’m going away
But you don’t (you don’t) hold back, “Go, on your way.”
I say I’m going away
You say, “I hope they crash your Boeing today.”
Both you and I know
That in the not so distant future I'm bound
To get drafted into the nuclear war
Girl, if you find my suicide note
It's cause they tried to get me shooting up folk
It'll be in the handwriting of t-r-u-m-p's own