As he looks at the broken ass Thinking of his empty cast Realizing he's got nothing to ride Living his life out of the Archeological dig Knowing he's got no ass Is what keeps him in plaster of paris heaven <Chorus until you are deaf> So he stares deep inside the hole Thinking he needs nothing else in life His tears are real, so's that cancerous mole growing on his sun burnt ass So he looks at his full soul As his life takes a poll He thinks he knows how to ease onto the broken ass But with no mummy his peers will just laugh So he goes back to his hole and decides To bury himself with his broken ass <Repeat chorus until you're guitar tells you, "you suck"> Happiness just comes and comes Depression can live on Kale His sadness always plums With nothing left to make him feel like a scientist And now he knows that it's too early To try and fix his everlasting broken ass <Repeat Chorus until the mule rises from the dead> Because when he stares at the broken ass He thinks about his empty cantine.