Testo Needs Duct Tape

The need for stitches means nothing to me
Suck it up, tape it shut, don't you
cry over a little cut
A fistful of quarters and a knife to the leg
This ain't
no death letter so stop crying the blues

At the end of the day it needs duct tape

Cry for sympathy, I handed you salt
This whole thing was your fault
I
drank the milk my teeth were sitting in
I'll get used to the pain that's
lingering