[INTRO — dirty blues guitar / upright bass] [Libertine, blues croon] They called me eccentric. I said... Finally. An accurate fucking diagnosis. [blues lick] Strange clothes. Strange music. Strange sense of humor. Apparently I'm supposed to be offended. Darling... I'm fucking delighted. [BRASS HIT — RIFF DROP] [VERSE 1] Velvet coat! Combat boots! Blues in the basement with a punk-rock fuse! Sharp little grin Odd little taste Never met a normal I was dying to embrace Jazz on Monday Breakdowns by three Tuesday I'm wondering what the fuck happened to me They say, "Pick an aesthetic!" Why? I LOOK BETTER WHEN THE FUCKING COLORS COLLIDE! [PRE-CHORUS] Too strange? THANK YOU! Too loud? I KNOW! Little unusual? THAT'S THE FUCKING GOAL! You call it weird like that's gonna sting— I CALL IT HAVING SOME FUCKING PERSONALITY! [CHORUS] TRUE ECCENTRIC! THAT'S WHAT I AM! BLUES IN MY BLOOD WITH A METALCORE PLAN! TRUE ECCENTRIC! PUNK IN MY BONES! BRASS IN THE CEILING AND DISTORTION BELOW! Classy! Trashy! Smooth! Chaotic! SOMEHOW THIS SHIT STILL SOUNDS FUCKING SONIC! TRUE ECCENTRIC! REMEMBER THE NAME! NORMAL NEVER LOOKED THAT FUCKING GOOD ANYWAY! [VERSE 2 — blues/punk] Some want labels Neat little rows Know what you're getting before the curtain even goes Good fucking luck. I change with the light Crooning something smooth then screaming by midnight Give me brass Give me gain Give me dirty blues guitar screaming through the rain Give me punk drums moving too fast THEN DROP THAT MOTHERFUCKER DOWN TO HALF-TIME AT LAST! [HALF-TIME HIT] Oh... That's nasty. [BLUES GUITAR SOLO] [Libertine] See? Why choose? [CHORUS] TRUE ECCENTRIC! THAT'S WHAT I AM! BLUES IN MY BLOOD WITH A METALCORE PLAN! TRUE ECCENTRIC! PUNK IN MY BONES! BRASS IN THE CEILING AND DISTORTION BELOW! Polished! Ragged! Sweet! Psychotic! [Professor] Perhaps “chaotic.” [Libertine] Nobody asked. TRUE ECCENTRIC! REMEMBER THE NAME! NORMAL NEVER LOOKED THAT FUCKING GOOD ANYWAY! [BRIDGE — smoky blues club] [Libertine, crooning] Here's the funny thing... Everybody's weird. Some people just have better camouflage. They've got the strange laugh. The guilty pleasure. The outfit they're afraid to wear. The song they only play alone. The part of themselves they keep backstage. Me? I fired security. Opened the curtain. Put that motherfucker under a spotlight. [piano flourish] If I'm strange... you might as well get the deluxe package. [BUILD — big band enters] Trumpet! Trombone! Baritone sax! Dirty guitar! Now add distortion. More. MORE. There we fucking go. [BREAKDOWN — blues-metalcore] TRUE! EC! CEN! TRIC! BLUES! PUNK! BRASS! CHUG! THROW THAT SHIT IN THE FUCKING POT! BEND! THAT! NOTE! THEN! DROP! THAT! RIFF! I DON'T NEED ONE FUCKING BOX TO KNOW WHAT I AM! [SECOND BREAKDOWN — blues shuffle chugs] ODD! PROUD! LOUD! FREE! I'D RATHER BE STRANGE THAN A BORING FUCKING COPY! STYLE! TASTE! MIND! SOUND! IF DIFFERENT IS WRONG— I'M NOT TURNING AROUND! [INSTRUMENTAL STOP] [Libertine] Normal? No thanks. I tried beige once. Didn't suit me. [HEAVIEST DROP] [FINAL CHORUS] TRUE ECCENTRIC! DAMN FUCKING RIGHT! BIG-BAND BRASS WITH A BLUES RIFF BITE! TRUE ECCENTRIC! PUNK RUNNING WILD! METALCORE BREAKDOWN WITH A CABARET SMILE! Elegant! Filthy! Smooth! Unstable! PUT EVERY FUCKING FLAVOR ON THE TABLE! TRUE ECCENTRIC! THIS IS MY LANE— WAIT— I SAID I DON'T FUCKING HAVE ONE! [FINAL RIFF] [OUTRO — blues guitar / piano] [Libertine, crooning] So call me strange. Call me weird. Call me eccentric. Just don't call me normal. That's fucking insulting. [blues guitar bend] Goodnight.
