there's a time and a place
this is neither the time nor place
where do i fit in
in this jig-saw of a relationship

why should i play the fall-guy to love
i keep getting snubbed
what dumb luck, what dumbe luck

so rub it in with your dumb lyrics
yeah that's the time and place
to wring out your bullshit
and each album i get shit on a little more

who's tim's latest whore?
now, that's not fair
no that's just obscene
i'll stop speaking for you if you stop speaking for me

i'm writing songs to entertain
but these people they just want
they...they just want pain
they want to hear my deepest sins
the songs from the ugly organ

and what comes out is a horrible mess
songs i can't forget, what's been said
and this guilt i can't shed
still rings in my ears, again at the butcher's knife
i've been screaming for years but it gets me nowhere
just get out the butcher's knife

that organ's playing my song
but the song's gone on to long
what a day to sever such ugly extremities
what a lovely day, says the butcher as he raises his arm

...and i am what is left: a puppet. Laughing at the look
of amazement on the musician's face, pinocchio dove
of the cliff and swam away.