Happy Insider feat. Nick Thorburn - Busdriver

I’ve never been the brightest guy

You know the ones all the gals look for

I used to think Norweigan wood

Was a Scandanavian adult book store

I recall this fling with a goth metalhead

With a pierced labia and purple titties

She used to defile me

Make me feel lousy and sob while scribblin my little journal entries

I’m not out to fuck just malajust

Would you be my friend for a thousand bucks?

Im no solar panel plated kutcher made of granulated sugar

Due to how my confidence allowance sucks

I feel I should probably be re-sexed

If she makes me wear this full body v-neck

But my name is her with an apostrophe s

«Rarely do my yoga instructor and therapist both agree on the poor choices that

i make in my sex life

You know?

you get the commemorative tofurky?»

Happy inside

Happy inside, even though I’m frowning

Happy inside, I don’t know why I lie

«You know, all my homies need to stop hatin, really.»

Our OG looks on cozy nooks

Are under seige at the blanket fort

We’ve striken fibs of clothes pinned haters

With womens lib nomenclature

Our dinnerdates accompanied by dialysis machine beeps

In your case we should hereby screw while dressed to bee keep

What feudal queens are canoodling

With this human resource rent a wreck

When i scowl at the hole punchers and am gallop poll numbered

Say they would rather see my dick in a french press

My day is a cheech and chong mis step

And my face is a three pronged inlet, come on

«Even though, you know, you tried to put my face in a hot waffle iron

I still know that you love me inside, and I’m still feeling you»

Happy inside

Happy inside

Happy inside, I don’t know why i cry

Blocko blocko blocko blocko

Happy happy happy happy (x2)

Happy inside

Happy inside

Happy inside

Happy inside, I don’t know why i cry

Keep me draped in our calendar becomings

?

would show 'ominous' instead

Because it’s not likely

That when I’m on tour, chillin

& i freak with girls

Then I sign off on some off-shore drillin'

Simply because no broads adore us

My dry wit’s due to clogged pores

From chalk-board dust

Still I’m the shit on the vanity plates

On the tour bus for all the wrong reasons, though

Like me being an actual turd