Whatever I feel, whatever is said,
Whatever is real, whatever is dead,
The colors inside, they paint up my brain,
And try not to hide that I am insane,
I made up the truth, it's all just a lie,
And then I would lay 15 miles wide,
The walls they will melt because of the sun,
The workers they built my igloo for one good reason,
I know, It's just such a pain,
My city won't snow, my city won't rain,
Chorus:
Igloo home (X4)
If I was going to join a gang,
I'd have to give up my yin and yang,
Committing hate crimes it ain't my style,
But vandalism is all the wild,
Tagging my name on random walls,
Writing weird crap on bathroom stalls,
For a good time please call my friends,
At "1-800-4-VIRGINS,"
I'm a good kid, I cannot leave,
My small hometown, my record sleeves,
My painted walls in my own igloo,
A sleek and modern greenish-blue,
Someday I know my home will flood,
With mineral water and iron blood,
A baptism of what is me,
To help me prepare my eulogy,
If you don't hear a word I sing,
My thoughts are only wondering,
The point I made is already dead,
Whatever is real, whatever I said
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