(written by Kristin Hersh)

 

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 we 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 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

Can't you see the white-out?

Can't you see the white-out?

Can't you see the white-out?

No

I guess you don't