Jesus, etc. [Live, X ’24] lyrics

What happens if you have to go to the bathroom mid-show? “Sorry, need a minute.”

I look at my band and mouth: “Bathroom?”

It’s a lie. I just have to leave; I don’t want to finish this set. It’s the worst live album ever, since this is the track where I scurry off the stage.

When I come back, I have a Cigarettes After Sex-inspired cover of Wilco.

I hope they like it.

♫ “Jesus, don’t cry.”
I make eye contact with a hot guy in the audience. It’s all over now.

♫ “You can rely on me, honey.”
What if I had been born into a humanity-wide unbound libidinal utopia (“hulu”).

♫ “You can combine anything you want.”
No women in sight.

♫ “I’ll be around.”
Like from the moment we were born, we had never heard of women.

♫ “You were right about the stars.”
Kind of like zweglions. You don’t know what those are.

♫ “Each one is a setting sun.”
If human reality had just been billions of men.
♫ “Tall building shake / Voices escape, singin’ sad sad songs.”
We would have had so much sex.

♫ “Tuned to chords / Strung down your cheeks.”
Nonstop, billion-years-long, unbound mutual pleasure.

♫ “Bitter melodies, turnin’ your orbit around.”
Hot masculine alpha types would be king everywhere.

♫ “Don’t cry / You can rely on me, honey / You can come by any time you want.”
In that universe, I’d run a country.

♫ “I’ll be around / You were right about the stars.”
The entire species would break along the lines of how f*ckable you were.

♫ “Each one is a setting sun.”
The male project is sex.

♫ “Tall building shake / Voices escape, singin’ sad sad songs.”
A humanity of all men would have nothing but gay sex on their mind all the time.

♫ “Tuned to chords / Strung down your cheeks / Bitter melodies, turnin’ your orbit around.”
And the existence of some people that everyone wants to have sex with, and some people that nobody wants to have sex with, would be the central fission of human existence.

♫ “Voices whine / Skyscrapers are scrapin’ together.”
Handsome men would be a targeted minority.
♫ “Your voice is smoking / Last cigarettes are all you can get / Turnin’ your orbit around.”
We’d be exploited. We’d be captured. We’d be sold as pets. We’d be born to be used.

♫ “Our love.”
Kind of like how you treat smart people who vibe “Second Coming.” You just want to exploit, capture, sell as pets, or use.

♫ “Our love / Our love is all we have / Our love / Our love is all of God’s money / Everyone is a burning sun.”
Handsome men in an all-male sex utopia would be oppressed as prey.

♫ “Tall buildings shake.”
The only power we hold over ugly men, ugly men will take from us in psychotic ways using the moralities they brainwash into everyone. Handsome men are “evil.” Handsome men are “born lucky,” so they’re born to used. Handsome men aren’t human.

♫ “Voices escape, singin’ sad sad songs.”
Are handsome men human?

♫ “Tuned to chords / Strung down your cheeks / Bitter melodies, turnin’ your orbit around.”
Handsome men would be the women of an all-male global species-wide sexual utopia.

♫ “Voices whine.”
I don’t know how an all-woman one would work but I know men.

♫ “Skyscrapers are scrapin’ together.”
I know alphas.

♫ “Your voice is smoking.”
And I know top dogs.
♫ “Last cigarettes are all you can get / Turnin’ your orbit around.”
Bro, I bet you’re straight too. f*ck you.

♫ “Last cigarettes are all you can get.”
f*ck you for saving the world.

♫ “Turnin’ your orbit around.”
We coulda been a team too. We coulda been a tribe—you know, had humanity been set up single-sexed and all-male.

♫ “Last cigarettes are all you can get / Turnin’ your orbit around.”

Okay. Go back to your world where Hulu doesn’t exist.

f*ck it.

Straight values. Eh, I like some of them. In Hulu I’d be like Gay Genghis Khan. With “Woman is God” in my ear, I’m just a polite Quaker.