P.c.

You know, what pisses me off more than anything is all these people who

Aren't exactly politically correct. like the other day, i was out walking

My siberian-american huskies. and you know how canines are: they like to

Sniff everything, including each other's butts. so some guy walks up and

He says, "man, get your dog's ass out of that other dog's nose!"



So, i replied, "how dare you call them dogs! they're siberian-american

Huskies. that's like calling an african-american a black. or calling a

Mexican-american a mexican. or calling a homosexual a stupid faggot!" it

Pissed me off so much i got a nose ring, died my hair blue and moved to

San francisco!



My bus is broken down

My spirit's broken too

My girl's by my side

So i don't feel so blue

Thirty miles more

To make it to the city

Where junk is king

And the air smells shitty



What a friendly town

It really suits us well

It took some getting used to

That fucking hippy smell

Everyone corrects me

Every time i speak

I'm sick and fucking tired

Of feeling like a stupid l.a. geek



I like it

I like it

I like it

I like it, yes i do



I say it's not an issue

It doesn't shed much light

On a global scale

It isn't worth the fight

The tongue that girl speaks

Is forked to you and me

That bitch has got a problem

I think it's called p.c.


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