If you can't be good, be good at it.

Deadwalk like a pretty dance
For only men with the blues
Who know what the name of moaning death
Means when it talks to itself, sweetly.
Goddamn this demon down deep,
Eye's and fingers.
Come on, all you ugly.
I count the names of street walkers and tough guys.
Friends, in strange places.
Don't hurt, to know your dirt,
With these pretty everythings coming down
Like scattered sunshine.
I'm feeling like I broke the dance when I shook you down backwards,
Like a good, bad boy would do.
Come get the dead good, living upside down.
Bet I could turn you!
Let me call you sideways, just for fun.
Get your mind right and sass me like you talked yourself
Into an even keel.
I only sound bad, like warning labels and pictures of kids
That got to close to fireworks.
I'm not poison, I like to pretend.
I'll draw pictures with you, capturing your likeness
With bone dust and Grandma...
Hey, pigment ain't cheap.
Besides, she urned it.