Prosthetic Head

I see you, down in the front line
Such a sight for sore eyes you’re a suicide makeover
Plastic eyes lookin’ through a numbskull
Self effaced,
what’s his hace,
you erased yourself so shut up
You don’t let up.

You have a growth that must be treated,
like a severed severe pain in the neck
You can smell it but you can’t see it
No explanation identified ’cause you don’t know
You don’t say
And you got no reply.

Hey you, where did you come from?
Got a head full of lead,
you’re an inbred bastard son
All dressed up,
red blooded,
Amannequin
Do or die,
no reply,
don’t deny that you’re syntethic,
you’re pathetic.

Posted in Green Day and tagged , , , , .

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