Rooting Songtext
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We all want the same things, I'm sure,
We're all rooting for the fuckups,
And their sloppy way of eating,
And their sloppy, happy ways.
When it's sad, we like to hold it,
Make it warm and thankful.
God, it's hard to be alive with everything,
When somebody's crying.
And it's sad to want to hold them,
We're all rooting for the fuckups,
And their sloppy way of eating,
And their sloppy, happy ways.
When it's sad, we like to hold it,
Make it warm and thankful.
God, it's hard to be alive with everything,
When somebody's crying.
And it's sad to want to hold them,
To thing myself to wriggle inside of them.
God, it's hard to be a human,
When I know they're out there,
Spreading their patchy, awful inner thighs,
They're beautiful and ugly, and they're true, right?
Anyone who thinks so is a voyeur,
And exploitive and a bastard.
God, it's hard to be a human,
When I know they're out there,
Spreading their patchy, awful inner thighs,
They're beautiful and ugly, and they're true, right?
Anyone who thinks so is a voyeur,
And exploitive and a bastard.
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