Buddy, I’m telling ya:
clean me or kill me.

It’s been years now.
You got me over half a decade ago.
You’ve been using me day in, day out.
It’s a lot of miles, a lot of water you’ve put through me.

I get your logic: “Water’s clean; he must be flushed through a lot.”
But you’ve also put a lot of your saliva into me, and your germs.
There’s plastic residue.

Just wash me out, man. It’s time.

I know there were two of us at first.
I’ll bet you’re sad you lost my sister-in-arms.
I know I am. When we were both around,
I wasn’t so overtaxed.
Now, it’s all the time with this mouth of yours.

Clean me or kill me, kid.
If you wanna toss me, that’s good, too.
Recycling’s a fine fate.

I’ll be put to good use.
Get out there again in a new stream sometime soon.
I’ll be clean there, I can tell you that one for free!

So, look.
What’s it gonna be.
I don’t need an answer, but you need to make up your mind.
So get to it: clean or kill.
Come to a conclusion, all right?