the modern machines
To get a little you got to give a little... if it’s worth anything it’s gonna be a rough ride...
.... I’m the jukebox now. They tease with me their shiny quarters, they plug ‘em in, and I got to admit it kinda tickles, and they love it, I’ll play whatever they want to hear, oh, oh, play this one, and this one, and then this one... But when the night has thoroughly crashed and the barman has shut the light out... they all go home in pairs, even, especially the cute girls that spent the whole night leaning up against me... Hey, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take at least a cheap thrill from it, but it’s far from a fair shake.
And, now I’m alone and I can’t even spend the money I earned... can’t spend it to have somebody jerk me off, haven’t even the arms to jerk myself off.
But they’ll be back tomorrow, I can guarantee it, as sure as breath.
Oh, but I won’t be here, goodnight for the last time my friends, tomorrow they’ll put me on a train and send me east to be dissected and used as parts in more modern machines...
But they’ll be back tomorrow, where’s the jukebox gone? They might say, the thought might run through their minds, you know, as an item of conversation... But memories are so small... Oh, is that the "wolf pack boys", they’ll say? I love this song....
Ladedadedadedadeda.... Ophelia’s always been crazy! Always.
.... I’m the jukebox now. They tease with me their shiny quarters, they plug ‘em in, and I got to admit it kinda tickles, and they love it, I’ll play whatever they want to hear, oh, oh, play this one, and this one, and then this one... But when the night has thoroughly crashed and the barman has shut the light out... they all go home in pairs, even, especially the cute girls that spent the whole night leaning up against me... Hey, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take at least a cheap thrill from it, but it’s far from a fair shake.
And, now I’m alone and I can’t even spend the money I earned... can’t spend it to have somebody jerk me off, haven’t even the arms to jerk myself off.
But they’ll be back tomorrow, I can guarantee it, as sure as breath.
Oh, but I won’t be here, goodnight for the last time my friends, tomorrow they’ll put me on a train and send me east to be dissected and used as parts in more modern machines...
But they’ll be back tomorrow, where’s the jukebox gone? They might say, the thought might run through their minds, you know, as an item of conversation... But memories are so small... Oh, is that the "wolf pack boys", they’ll say? I love this song....
Ladedadedadedadeda.... Ophelia’s always been crazy! Always.
posted by j/r at 10:50 p.m.
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