You soft-soap the soft-shelled

The porous morons like me

And you're not sorry

Piece of cake to shake off principles

Hard-won scruples

And pretty virtue

Crushed into the bottom

Of mud-yellow sand like a slippershell

Chrome

Like phosphorescent teeth

In mud-yellow skin

You're a slippershell

And you can go to hell

Hard water down your throat

Down your back

Hard to say it's hard luck

When you're so happy

Hard to say it's hard luck

When you had it coming

Crushed into the bottom

Of mud-yellow sand like a slippershell

Chrome

Like phosphorescent teeth

In mud-yellow skin

You're a slippershell

And you can go to hell

Maybe see me there

Can't you see it's a white-out

Made of chrome?

Can't you see the white-out?

It's why I piss and moan

It's why I can't go home

Wallet full of fat

Belly full of milk

You're touchingly, deeply fulfilled

You're very old

You're very new

You're touchingly, deeply confused

Can't you see the white-out?

No

I guess you don't