Your life is shit. Shit. Your life is over. Bull. Your life is mine. Cry. Your life is hell. Hell. I'm gonna die. Dying with you just. I'm going to die. To wear my libido. I'm gonna try. To find it with you just. I'm gonna try. Do what they say. Your life is shit. Shit. Your life is strange. And insane. Your life is not the size of crap. Your life is now. Now. I'm gonna die. Dying with you just. I'm going to hell. Without my libido. I'm gonna try. To find it with you just. I'm going to hell. Without my libido. I'm gonna die. Dying with you just. I'm going to hell. Without my libido. I'm gonna try. To find it with you just. I'm gonna die. Do what they say. Your life is shit. "I'm gonna open myself up a flea market. I'm gonna open myself up a flea market. And you're gonna wish that you did. And retire on the profits. First off. I'm gonna empty out all of my Mrs. Butterworth jars. And I'm gonna put 'em on a shelf with my 800 dollar a month tax free Century 21 shop. And then I am going to put my Mrs. Butterworth syrup jars on the shelf. Next to all the commemorative fast food chain glasses and cups I've accumulated over the past 62 years. Then I'm going to get some plywood. I'm going to get some plywood and cut them up into two by two piece squares. Then I'm going to get some burlap and I'm going to cut them into two by two piece squares and then I'm going to put them onto the pieces of plywood. And then I'm going to go to the beach. I'm going to go to the beach and I'm gonna collect some shells and driftwood. And then I'm going to take the shells and driftwood and glue them onto the plywood and burlap. And sell em for lots of money. People will be paying top dollar for my kids new used new toys and clothing. Then maybe someday I can get rid of that piss stained mattress I've been sleeping on..."