I wrestled to write me a song called "Stuck Cloud"
But who cares 'bout weather when I ain't got crowds?
I have to admit it: I can't help but lose
But I feel much better when pickled in booze;
I'm one clueless clown posting here on Craigs List
Conceited, defeated, and growing more pissed;
I sit in my trailer, 'midst clouds of pot smoke
I'm wishing to win but just can't quit the dope;
Oh yes, I confess, I'm a miserable clown
Rejected by Taylor Swift, I'm beaten down;
Sniv'ling and sobbing and drowning in tears
Counting the bubbles in my stale warm beer;
Wishing and hoping to be on the scene
Envying Taylor Swift till I turn green;
Expecting a fortune and waiting for fame
Deserving it all, yet no one knows my name;
Maybe I'll follow T. Swift's touring band
I'll jump in my clown car, I'll criss-cross the land!
I'll mince onto stages, with gay spotlights blazing
And upstage Her Highness with twink navel-gazing!
I'll strut like a cock in my leather and shit
Then give her the finger, all stinky and stiff;
I'll go back to Goodwill, get my old gig back
Cuz I'm just a clown, and a lyrical hack;
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