Topher Grace - Thumper

Simmer down the wet confetti, the geneticists still aren’t ready

To come home so I’m alone for now

One trick phoney to the three act addicts

Foreplay takes five minutes, sex is next I guess?

«Rock and roll is here to stay», my mantra on bank-holidays

A self fulfilling prophecy, oh yes

Make out with the mirror, practice chat up lines and figure out

Which thin veneer to debut as sincere moi

My fingernails are a frayed knot, my self esteem has caught the cot death

Breathlessly, I’m eager to be redeemed

Still sleep with both arms in the air, still making room for your hair

And head to rest upon my chest, I guess

Still fantasise about the war, still wolfing down the singular

The Liffey’s swallowed all my pride today

And Spielberg’s in the kitchen stink eyeing my side on the brink

Lining up the shot of his career

My fingers make a square to frame a cinematic, sincere pain

My ego is the Best Boy in the room (woo hoo)

On the bag, I don’t need that

My confidence is my confidante

My knuckles white around the stars, I suckle on a teat in bars

The milk careers, and flows, and tastes so smooth

You say you’re crying more than me, as evidence

Capacity to feel a higher low, but I’m not sure

I hate myself and want to live, I want to love

I want to give, I want to take and be taken care of

Pock-marks dot the blister field, find solace in fictitious real

The realest thing since genuinity

Don’t be offended by my songs, I didn’t mean a single word

I’d disown them in a second for your touch

The water hits my face and then I’ve convinced my reflection

Pity no one else was in the room

My ears are booming, jaw is chewing

Eyes dart towards my mouth, which flies like a flag

I’m making moves, well I’m moving. I saw it in a movie once

A power play to wag a tongue like that

Talking at you like a child, catastrophize my trophy wife

Sweating through the clothes that you’ve just lent me

Snapping at the remote control, the tendrils flip the Chance Channel

And all I have to say is, «I guess, I love you man»

On the bag, I’m a made man

A made up man, I know I am not

I hide in bars. I drown in words. It seems absurd that I’m lonely

Make a safe bet — If I left, this party continues without me