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lyrics

The Reunion Tour
.
Get Rolling Stone on the phone
And let them know we're getting the band back together
Every band member the fans can remember
Are jammed in a packed van
Clad in black leather
Dirty Doc Martens
Cigarette burned plaid
One gram away from becoming urn ash
Inhaling burnt hash through a bottle top
Passed out in the Casino-Rama parking lot
Smelling like Old Spice and vomit
Strumming my old pride and joy, but won't think twice to pawn it
Distorted Marshall's bring the gutter to my gold
Making every single mother drip butter from her hole
I'm a legend to your Mom
A God to your Father
I was the soundtrack in that old blue Impala
Circling the neighborhood for some privacy
To reverse cowgirl in the driver's seat
And these kids acting like I don't deserve it now
Saying I'm over the hill and I'm worthless now
Don't tell me that my verses don't run circles 'round
These human cannonballs and these circus clowns
I'm the king of my home
A king on my throne
With a rabid Rottweiler at my shins
Bring a bone
I'm the king of my home
A king on my throne
And you ain't dog shit
So shut up and sing along
The reunion tour
Ain't nobody going gold or moving units anymore
The reunion tour
I'm trying to sell my memoir out the Indigo stores
The reunion tour
I'm a year away from a lifetime achievement award
The reunion tour
Performing the hits in a half empty casino in Reno

credits

from the d​.​ark tape [2013], released June 24, 2013

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