Dear Mister-I’m-Too-Good-To-Call-Or-Write-My-Fans,
This’ll be the last package I ever send your ass.
It’s been six months and still no word, I don’t deserve it.
I know you got my last two letters; I wrote the addresses on ‘em perfect.
So this is my cassette I’m sending you, I hope you hear it,
I’m in the car right now, I’m doing 90 on the freeway.
Hey Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive?
You know the song by Phil Collins, “In the Air Tonight”
About that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drowning
But didn’t, then Phil saw it all, then at a a show he found him?
That’s kinda how this is, you coulda rescued me from drowning.
Now it’s too late; I’m on a thousand downers now, I’m drowsy,
And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call.
I hope you know I ripped ALL of your pictures off the wall.
I love you Slim. We coulda been together, think about it.
You ruined it now, I hope you can’t sleep and you dream about it,
And when you dream I hope you can’t sleep and you SCREAM about it.
I hope your conscience EATS AT YOU and you can’t BREATHE without me.