| Song | My Dinner With Andy |
| Artist | Astronautalis |
| Album | The Mighty Ocean & Nine Dark Theaters |
| And I'm bleedin' for all my real good sense, and all the sins that I've made | |
| And I'm bleedin' for another good intention gone the wrong way, | |
| the wrong way, wrong way, wrong way, wrong way... hey. | |
| It's just a bit of nervousness; | |
| I didn't mean to turn a dress from the very perfect pinkly shade to murderous. | |
| And now her face is verdant green. Horrified, observe the scene, I made a mess. | |
| I spilled a glass of finest ‘83 indeed. | |
| Waitresses stop and stare, the patrons shockin' awful fierce; | |
| force the forks, the plates to clank, in unison and rock their ears and look at me. | |
| Hope to scoop the country wolf who's under hoof, whose blunder would be understood as social tragedy. | |
| Never shoulda' let him in. | |
| “I never trusted him,” I hear the people muttering through polished teeth and chucklin'. | |
| The tensions quick and doubling – | |
| glance at my date's ugly grin, she tried this case and cannot wait – erase this memory. | |
| Won’t you see what must be done? | |
| Waiter brings the sharpest one, now vengeance’s comin'. | |
| Finally the taste for blood is on her tongue, I reach to clean more wine that’s fallen. | |
| Handkerchief in outstretched arm – too late she takes the blade and tucks it deep inside of me. | |
| And I'm bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I'm bleedin' for all my real good sense and all the sins that I've made. | |
| And I'm bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I'm bleedin' for another good intention gone the wrong way. | |
| Bus boys come equipped with cups, jiggers, flutes and snifters thrust under wounds to | |
| catch the drops of blood before they hit the rug. | |
| And everyone politely claps. How quick my miss did swing the axe, | |
| punishing the blundering, clumsy enemy. | |
| Just before I fade to death, the maître d’ will take a step to | |
| my date, waive the check, and offering to take her dress, | |
| have it cleaned, return it quick; | |
| apologies are furnished with happiness – she didn't wait to erase me from the scene. | |
| And everyone goes on with lunch, | |
| and never looking, talking of the tipping of the cup that stained my lady's pretty outfit, | |
| but the silence of the scene resumes as they drag me from the room, | |
| erasing any trace of dirty dining history. | |
| A dulcet made of kisses blown. | |
| Conversations whisper on, and talk of saving whilst protecting all the kids at home. | |
| I hear they're eating garbage cakes. | |
| I'll never stop till sad's erased from Webster's dictionary page. | |
| Think of all the cripples’ days. As bills are paid, hands are shakin'. | |
| Art discussed by mantle place. | |
| Songs are sung to save some places. | |
| Signs are made to protest hate. | |
| Overwhelming damage rate – the nicotine and candle flame, | |
| And plans are laid by restaurateur to up security. | |
| And I'm bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I'm bleedin' for another good intention gone the wrong way. | |
| And I'm bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I'm bleedin' for all my real good sense, and all the sins that I've made. | |
| And I'm bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I'm bleedin' for another good intention gone the wrong way. |
| And I' m bleedin' for all my real good sense, and all the sins that I' ve made | |
| And I' m bleedin' for another good intention gone the wrong way, | |
| the wrong way, wrong way, wrong way, wrong way... hey. | |
| It' s just a bit of nervousness | |
| I didn' t mean to turn a dress from the very perfect pinkly shade to murderous. | |
| And now her face is verdant green. Horrified, observe the scene, I made a mess. | |
| I spilled a glass of finest ' 83 indeed. | |
| Waitresses stop and stare, the patrons shockin' awful fierce | |
| force the forks, the plates to clank, in unison and rock their ears and look at me. | |
| Hope to scoop the country wolf who' s under hoof, whose blunder would be understood as social tragedy. | |
| Never shoulda' let him in. | |
| " I never trusted him," I hear the people muttering through polished teeth and chucklin'. | |
| The tensions quick and doubling | |
| glance at my date' s ugly grin, she tried this case and cannot wait erase this memory. | |
| Won' t you see what must be done? | |
| Waiter brings the sharpest one, now vengeance' s comin'. | |
| Finally the taste for blood is on her tongue, I reach to clean more wine that' s fallen. | |
| Handkerchief in outstretched arm too late she takes the blade and tucks it deep inside of me. | |
| And I' m bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I' m bleedin' for all my real good sense and all the sins that I' ve made. | |
| And I' m bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I' m bleedin' for another good intention gone the wrong way. | |
| Bus boys come equipped with cups, jiggers, flutes and snifters thrust under wounds to | |
| catch the drops of blood before they hit the rug. | |
| And everyone politely claps. How quick my miss did swing the axe, | |
| punishing the blundering, clumsy enemy. | |
| Just before I fade to death, the ma tre d' will take a step to | |
| my date, waive the check, and offering to take her dress, | |
| have it cleaned, return it quick | |
| apologies are furnished with happiness she didn' t wait to erase me from the scene. | |
| And everyone goes on with lunch, | |
| and never looking, talking of the tipping of the cup that stained my lady' s pretty outfit, | |
| but the silence of the scene resumes as they drag me from the room, | |
| erasing any trace of dirty dining history. | |
| A dulcet made of kisses blown. | |
| Conversations whisper on, and talk of saving whilst protecting all the kids at home. | |
| I hear they' re eating garbage cakes. | |
| I' ll never stop till sad' s erased from Webster' s dictionary page. | |
| Think of all the cripples' days. As bills are paid, hands are shakin'. | |
| Art discussed by mantle place. | |
| Songs are sung to save some places. | |
| Signs are made to protest hate. | |
| Overwhelming damage rate the nicotine and candle flame, | |
| And plans are laid by restaurateur to up security. | |
| And I' m bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I' m bleedin' for another good intention gone the wrong way. | |
| And I' m bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I' m bleedin' for all my real good sense, and all the sins that I' ve made. | |
| And I' m bleedin' in front of all your friends... I can pray you scrub the stains. | |
| And I' m bleedin' for another good intention gone the wrong way. |