Don’t Get Bent Out Of Shape Beck

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In '89, I was doin' fine
In '92, the bloodhounds bent on you
Baby had a road map
Now it has been lost
The wind is biting down your neck

Don't get bent out of shape, my friend
No, don't get bent out of shape
Though your heart is all twisted
And every word seems fake
Don't get bent out of shape

Take bricks of shame, you build to live
Hang up some pluck on your ribs
Leave that lonesome shack
And let the waters rise
Otherwise you're choking on your tears

Don't get bent out of shape, my friend
No, don't get bent out of shape
Though you're sick of yourself
And it's too late to escape
Don't get bent out of shape

Cut the crap and cut the beans
Launch your eyeball-like machines
All your grievin' will only make you ill
If time won't kill ya, something else will