I want my blankie.

If it’s hot and I’m not in the right mood to fight
If the planets align and the dosing’s just right
If they’re off of my back and out of my sight
Then I’ll Neflix and chill ‘stead of killing tonight

Drive slower please
Dent my car
Test nukes out on
My lucky star
Kill my dog
And eat my lunch
Have a laugh
No, have a bunch

My therapist says you are bad for my health
My credit cards say I am bad for my wealth
My skeletons say I am going to hell
But I’m living there now so it’s all just as well

Hand me a gun
Don’t hand me a hankie
I’m feeling homicidal
Where’s my blankie?