Rug Rat

Your name is Mark, and you are a diamond for sure
You've got the eighth floor for yourself, and you sleep in there
I know the things you want to specialize in
Are not exactly a walleye, exactly

Walleye, you've got to sell that guitar to me
Because I need it for my band to play in downtown
There's fourteen bands, us and all the others
Piling speakers in the back

There are some men I'd like to call rogues
'Cause they don't treat a woman like she's supposed to be
Treated like a woman, Mary fucking, believe
In all the creatures that you taste like
Oh, go on, don't stop

Hey there, you got the beer's order, thoughts
Hot food makes me sick, I cannot stand like that
If you've got nothing, maybe something for me
Your love or just some more pee

Check out my reverb rocket
It's a special old amp
The camera boxes and the electro-harmonics in the cab
Dominoes, all the special ivories slap dance

Oh, rogue, rogue, rogue, rogue, rogue, rogue, rogue, rogue rat
Don't act like a rogue rat
I don't want to see you with your slamming drums
And all the purses that you're looking at