Holy Weight Champ - The Felice Brothers

I don’t need these cigarettes

All these pills and ill effects

He threw his suitcase into the crater

I don’t need these supplements

All these weapons of self-defense

He threw his switchblade into the crater

I don’t need this questionnaire

Credit ratings and Tupperware

He threw his phone into the crater

Oh, he’s the Holy Weight Champ

Oh, he’s the Holy Weight Champ

I could never rejoice

For a gold Rolls Royce

He threw his car keys into the crater

Why should I have some

When so many have none?

He threw his wealth into the crater

Oh, he’s the Holy Weight Champ

Oh, he’s the Holy Weight Champ

Well we stared at the pit stop crater for ten or fifteen minutes

Then loaded back into the station wagon

A small boat on an endless black sea

Gliding westward across the American desert

Onward to the midsummer derby

To the radios on the beach

To the roller coaster’s controlled fear

I don’t need these eyes or ears

I’m aligned to the heavenly spheres

He threw his senses into the crater

I don’t need to speak of hate

Good or evil, church and state

He threw his voice into

Oh, he’s the Holy Weight Champ

Oh, he’s the Holy Weight Champ

Oh, he’s the Holy Weight Champ

So long, Holy Weight Champ