Cute Thing

I got so fucking romantic

I apologize, let me light your cigarette

Come visit Kansas for a week of debauchery

Songs and high fives and weird sex

Cute thing

Don't be rude thing

Hot thing

It was nothing

God

Give me Frank Ocean's voice

And James Brown's stage presence

I will be your rock, God, when you're rolling the dice

I got so fucking romantic

I apologize, let me smoke your weed, no wait

Healthy minds make sexy bodies

Let us touch so much of ourselves together

Cute thing (cute thing, cute thing)

Don't be rude thing (don't be rude, don't be rude thing)

Hot thing (hot thing, hot thing)

It was nothing (it was nothing, it was nothing)

Dog (ooh ooh)

Give me one little chance (ooh ooh)

I can make you a man (ooh ooh)

I will be your rock, dog, when you're rolling your eyes

(Ooh, ooh, ooh)

(Ooh, ooh, ooh)

(Ooh, ooh, ooh)

(Do do do, do do do, do do)

(Do do do, do do do, do do)

(Do do do, do do do, do do)

(Do do do, do do do, do do)

He died in an explosion

Of mixed media and poorly written reviews

And some stammering drunk who tried to tell him how good his shit was

"That's- that's, ah- that's- that's some good- good shit, man"

I accidentally spoke his first name aloud

Trying to make it fit in with the lyrics of "Ana Ng"

Worked like a charm

We're getting old

When will we walk in each other's majestic presence?

Listen, hear my words

They're the ones you would think I would say if I was John Linnell

Or trying to be John Linnell

I am love

I am love

I would sleep naked

Next to you naked

I am love

I am love

I would sleep naked

Next to you naked

I am love

I am love

Like some excommunicated priest

Casting demons, asked one what its name was