One wants to face one's later years with some modicum of grace and style and calm and wisdom and whatever else you're supposed to gain as one ages.
Well, screw that. This one has its origins in a stupid gift I got when I turned 19. My girlfriend and my other friend in the faculty got together made a paper mâché 'Cosmic Egg' because ... well, because in a tutorial for Behavioural Science, I was asked to demonstrate language use that was not going to convince a third party and the best thing I could think up was an impromptu rant about 'The Cosmic Egg' which gave birth to the universe.
Now, I'm no believer in cosmic eggs and weird-ass cosmogonies, but obviously the silly speech left an impression on my girlfriend and our friends they thought I deserved to get my own 'Cosmic Egg' so they spent days making this stupid thing.
I mean, it was cute when they gave it to me, and it just sort of sat there until my relationship blew up. I won't go into the details here, but basically, the end featured these two people metaphorically stabbing me in the back and leaving me for dead. Honestly, they may have actually stabbed me in the back and left me for dead because everything in my life since then has been scrambling to overcome that moment.
So, what's a person to do but exact metaphorical and artistic vengeance. That's what this whole 'Kitsches of Pain' album is all about, and above all, this song spells it out. I'm not proud of it, but some things, you just gotta get them out of your system.
Here's a life lesson for all you young people. Don't ever trust anybody who laughs at your jokes. The joke will be on you eventually.
Oh and fuck you Nikki. Fuck you very much.
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