I woke up late last night, 
 my dreams were streaming great — 
 at a Volvo dealership 
 with time shifting, 
 walls made of floor mats. 
 I’ll never forget 
 the doomsday timelines 
 I had to wait 
 just to get back to you. 
 Never should’ve dropped you, 
 bae. 
 All the way 
 to smelling backs 
 and scents at the geisha. 
 I know you read my mind — 
 you must be from 
 a different timeline. 
 You can tell so much 
 about a man 
 by the dreams he keeps, 
 just running… 
 for a different timeline. 
 You can make it 
 if you never give up 
 on the edge of greatness. 
 The best choices 
 don’t even make sense 
 when you make ’em. 
 Found this book 
 from my mom — 
 I never used it, 
 and I don’t write much, 
 but it was there 
 when I needed it. 
 Wrote it 
 with the devil’s carpenter pencil 
 I built my dreams with, 
 in Jesus’ name, 
 amen. 
 Running through 
 the doomsday line, 
 and I’m still alive, 
 way past 99, 
 stuck in 2025. 
 And if you hear this song, 
 then you’re still alive. 
 Woke up thinking of you, 
 Kara baby — 
 I should’ve stayed stuck 
 on you like glue. 
 And good for you, too, 
 to stay away. 
 Took me this long 
 to figure out 
 the winning play, 
 and all I gotta say — 
 I’ll see you 
 in the next timeline 
 someday. 
 This was just 
 another simulation. 
 I’ll look for you 
 where Shaggy’s got 
 a big Adam’s apple 
 for Eve to eat, 
 for the joy of men. 
 We laughed for days, 
 in forty ways, 
 when I watched them play me 
 and that man, 
 trying to sell me 
 a Mercedes-Benz 
 after they tested 
 my T-Wolf. 
 Round and round, 
 all-wheel drive, 
 we drove — 
 ballpoint joints squealing 
 up the parking lot spiral. 
 And we made it 
 to the top of the lot, 
 just to get back to you, 
 babe. 
 And I mean it. 
 In the dream, 
 you can touch my feet — 
 and I love you. 
 No homo. 
 It was just 
 a bad sensor 
 in the end. 
 We’re all just computers, 
 practicing at being 
 good men. 
 And I’m old software 
 on a Ruby Tuesday. 
 You know I always loved 
 you all.