Ode to Junior

Or, 'late night semi-drunk blogging':

The Smiths from the album "Meat is Murder" as interpreted by those cute, little Russian minxes, t.A.T.uI am the son (yes you are)
and the heir (yes you are)
of a shyness (Valium?) that is criminally vulgar(too obvious...)
I am the son and heir
of nothing in particular

You shut your mouth(or what, Gitmo?)
how can you say
I go about things the wrong way? (ummm...)
I am human and I need to be loved (as if)
just like everybody else does

I am the son
and the heir
of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and the heir
of nothing in particular

You shut your mouth
how can you say
I go about things the wrong way?
I am human and I need to be loved
just like everybody else does

There's a club (Exxon) if you'd like to go (it's in Iraq)
you could meet somebody (Dick) who really loves you (well not really...)
so you go, and you stand on your own
and you leave on your own
and you go home, and you cry
and you want to die (ah)

When you say it's gonna happen "now"
well, when exactly do you mean? (September?)
see I've already waited too long (since it began...)
and all my hope is gone (ain't that the truth?)

You shut your mouth
how can you say
I go about things the wrong way?
I am human and I need to be loved
just like everybody else does