Rotten Apple

Rotten Apple – by The Freakin’ Hott

There’s a knockin’ in my chest saying “How do you do?”
There’s a blister on my mister and I blame it on you
There’s a beard on the bobtail mystery rabbit
My sister’s on the mic in a bloody black habit
Don’t bother with my father’s black poker-stained fingers
Don’t slip on the lips of the honey-tongued singer
The burnin’ jewel in the school growing into a man
In the dark he’ll leave his mark on the backs of your hands

When you lie to me you lie to everyone
Steal the soul of the seventh sun
Don’t you know that I’m too young to cry
If you take my heart, I’ll take your name
Take my lips, I will take the blame
Can’t you feel what I have got inside
Yeah I’m the rotten apple of your eye

If baby gets a ride and everything goes as planned
She’s gonna wake up in the morning with the taste of a man
And sticky, sticky fingers and matted black hair
And all her pretty panties scattered over the stairs
This is the story of a boy who had gold in his throat
He’s captain of his ship but he’s rockin’ the boat
And he knows he’s only got one last chance
He’s gonna teach little sister how to dance

When you lie to me you lie to everyone
Steal the soul of the seventh sun
Don’t you know that I’m too young to cry
If you take my heart, I’ll take your name
Take my lips, I will take the blame
Can’t you feel what I have got inside
Yeah I’m the rotten apple of your eye