and she dreams of being more
foot out the door with a deadset jaw
and we all got flaws, all want more
and he dreams of being more
foot out the door with a deadset jaw
cause we all got flaws, all want more

alright she bought two tickets but her boy's been wicked,
hitting bigger, drinking quicker, now he's dropping out the picture
so she slips the backstage threads on,
tube top, red thong, lip balm with glitter
hair colored like an out of whack tv
retuning channels every weekend repeatedly
for now she's all matching fashion model seemingly
battle dad heatedly lock horns repeatedly
cause he's a grown stoner, mom's the homeowner
thats never round to argue bout the clap or pneumonia
in the pontiac out the drive like a bullet with the
thirty some dollars that she snuck from out his wallet
on route, shooting up the stash of jack d
even though the fake IDs like a guarantee
when you're seventeen with the body of an amazon
booty getting more cat calls than an intercom

meanwhile he woke up, everyone was missing
toked up on the bus to clear the double vision
grabbed the backpack permanent pen stack,
notebooks old poems waiting for revision
dazed and confused on stage this conditioning of
no sleep all week, been a bad decision plus
he's always mauled by the haggling calls of his
long range long term tracking the position
still touring with the same old rap team
every year same dive scene, frat teens
old school pot fiends, hip hop nerdzines
ivy league rastas outliving the dream
and he wants more, sick of being the nice guy
on the road single always jacking to wifi
half the crew got pink eye but
still stuffing chickens like pot pies at popeyes

Hold up, this line stretches for ages
across the porcelain chopped up with patience
bathroom stall locked up, someone's crying in the
next one coughing up vomit and dying
four shots at the bar, all these people
getting claustrophobia threading the needle
quarter past doors, already unsteady, but some
bumps in the night and she's ready to mingle
backstage, inbetween the roar of the crowd
he's hearing that he's now a daddy, wow and isn't he proud
it gets way too loud, gut roll, hit the trash can
reroll the marboro, refill the flask again
all these revelations racing in his mind
raising aviation questions, how he's thinking of flying
how he settles for lying, tells her everythings fine
end call, pitfall, showtime

there she is, front row, standing on her tiptoes
mid-pose, mouthing all the lyrics from the get go
even with his eyes closed, he could still see her
rack bounce slow every time he spit his coke rap flow
so he switched up the setlist
did the club banger just to watch the way her breasts dip
they locked eyes, perfection connected, he
pulled her on stage, now she's stripping by the drum kit
cause he was drunk and on some dumb shit, tripping over cables,
sipping soda mixed in rum drink
and she was wild and uninhibited, ridiculous
how tight her figure was, he knew this chick she wanted something
so last song then it's on to the aftershow
party like a rock star, bake like a casserole
one more shot, last words, it's my birthday
then she blacks out starts gagging in the worst way

let's be honest, coulda been a mess
cause young groupie girls get raped for less
Left in the ER on drip like a faucet
or found the next day in the utility closet
He coulda been phil spector or gary glitter
Or any musician putting the G back in sinner
coulda gotten up in her, signed his name on her guts and
been gone the next morning laughing on the tour bus
coulda been worse but that nice guy curse slapped
his ass back to sober so he checked her purse
found the address, licence, fake
saw the legal birthdate and then he did a double take
Hour later and she finally talks, apologizes in bulk
He says it wasn't her fault, he called a
cab, got her clothes back brought her some water
Said, life's changed now I gotta go and be a father