if my eyes are not mistaken, and if my eyes are not untruecomes a time when you'll be aching for more than what is good for you
i'll taste the rhyming words you're baking, i'll heat the oven of your youth
the corrosion of your naked but mobile need for perfect truth
if my eyes don't tell me lies, cut me down to my own size
i've been called a jerk before
i got a stock of names in store, and maybe more
ain't nothing new, you can call me your jerk now
as if my eyes could be mistaken, as if my eyes could be untrue
nor my vision slowly fading and readily admit it's true
i'll wait a while till you'll be aching, i'll white a wail while waiting too
spread the news about the making of a u-turn point of view
no, your eyes ain't sort of wet, ain't no corners turning red
always prime time on your mind but only time will help you find
ain't nobody new, so fire the crew
i'll be glad to be your jerk
if you need a finer slice, an every side, a six-point dice
i'll stick my finger in my eyes, i got a gift to fantasize
and i don't need more than only you
why can't i be your jerk now?