Generic Blues

Generic Blues I woke up this mornin`, Then I went back to bed. Said I woke up this mornin`, Then I went right back to bed. Got a funny kinda feelin`, Like I got broken glass in my underwear, And a herd of wild pigs is tryin` to chew off my head. You know what I`m sayin`? Well, I ain`t got no money, I`m just walkin` down the road. Said I ain`t got no money, honey, So I`m just walkin` down this lonely old road. Well, I wish I could get me some money, But I forgot my automated teller code. I was born in a paper sack, in the bottom of a sewer. I had to eat dirt clods for breakfast, my family was so poor, My daddy was a waitress, my mama sold bathroom tile. My brothers and sisters all hated me,`cause I was an only child. I got the blues so bad. Kinda wish I was dead. Maybe I`ll blow my brains out, mama. Or maybe I`ll, yeah, maybe I`ll just go bowlin` instead. I`m just a no-good, scum-sucking, nose-picking, boot-licking, snivelling, grovelling worthless hunk of slime. Nothin` but a low-down, beer-bellied, bone-headed, pigeon-toed, turkey-necked, weasel-faced worthless hunk of slime. I guess I`ve got a pretty low self-image, maybe it`s a chemical imbalance or something. I should probably go and see a doctor about it when I`ve got the time. Aw, make it talk, son, make it talk. Okay, now make it shut up. Plagues and famine and pestilence always seem to get me down. I always feel so miserable whenever I`m around. I wish somebody would come along, stick a pitchfork through my brain. I`d flush myself right down the toilet, but I`d just clog up the drain. I got the blues so bad, Kinda wish I was dead. Maybe I`ll blow my brains out, mama, Or maybe I`ll go bowling. Or I just might go bowling. Maybe I`ll just rent some shoes and go bowling. Maybe I`ll join a league, enter a tournament, put on a stupid-lookin` shirt and go bowling, Instead.