​of Montreal - Fuckheads Is The AuTo-Correction lyrics

Am I a creep because I
Don’t have a chosen pronoun?
Am I a creep because my mind
Is the Odeon of the multiverse?
How you bragged your length of legs
By insisting to walk to Midtown
Microchips looking miserable in
A Greenpoint gallery
I bounced between bars full of
Ink alone as a pinball, yes that alone

Now your long haired friend is
Looking for his cocaine
And I’m happy my drink's not empty
As long as there’s something left in the
Glass you don’t look like an alcoholic
She sometimes always appears to be plural
I oversing ambivalence

Ovary venom as a first confession
Now that shе shaved her head wе’re
All one big comb over
He developed a craving for
Impotent men who peacock
Themselves invisible and being very
Ugly for tips gentrification of libido
Self-titled just like New York City it'self
Ragout the streetware of horsemanship I
Can dance with you we took too much
Bitter anonymous performative
Abuse and now we can’t sleep
She changed her name by one
Letter leaving nothing to discretion
Fuckheads is the new
Preferred auto-correction

Every idea is aquatic life no
Thought is the sea
That’s the only tear I’ve never
Cried it cried for me
Gray babies ululating outside
The afternoon door
Horror vacui conversation I don’t
Adore mi amor