Dear Mrs. I’m-Too-Good-to-Call-or-Write-My-Fans
This’ll be the last package I ever send your ahh
It’s been six months, and still no word—I don’t deserve it
I know you got my last two letters, I wrote the addresses on ’em perfect
So this is my cassette I’m sendin’ you, I hope you hear it
I’m in the car right now, I’m doin’ 190 on the freeway
Hey, Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive?
You know the song by Phil Collins, “In the Air of the Night”
About that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drownin’
But didn’t, then Phil saw it all, then at a show he found him?
That’s kinda how this is: you coulda rescued me from drownin’
Now it’s too late, I’m on a thousand downers now—I’m drowsy
And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call
I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall