You can try holding up a payroll with your pants around your ankles,. And a darkened plastic bag over your head,. Tied on real tightly.. Put sugar in the gas tank of your flat-tired getaway car,.
Black teared desolation with my head held in my hands. Broken heart inside my chest, a sadness in my pants. Calmly contemplating kissing this cruel world goodbye.
Hope you don't think I'm rude. Fuck You. Hope you don't think I'm precious. Fuck You. Hope you see I'm well adjusted:. I can't stand the sight of you.
I never felt bad lending a hand. I think you hoped I wouldn't be in a band. Broken ashtray I can always replace. I kick the door then I spit in your face.