You Lost Me At "It Wasn't My Fault"

I fell into a well, you know, whatever.
Some guys got suits, I got soul.
Fools gold caught a head cold, soaking in some elderly mold.
I got it, «nothing is changing.» What’s taught is so damn old.
I try to sing out of key. Readers digest (ing), I’ve been told.
Let’s loiter the beaches of leather, they are said to be holy.
I’m perfect crime, go ahead now, and call me unholy.
Go ahead, take it to theCan’t swim in an ocean of leather?
Go ahead, take it to the Sea scavengers huddled together.