used to be I knew of something or two about 'me'
but I'll tell you he's a bastard for sneakin off with my keys
it all went up and went to a state of medievalous stink cause
the next time I saw him, kicked him up and down the street
now hes all decked up in the hospital and pickin up some fleas,
and I hope he catches boils that he scratches til he bleeds
for the next thing that happens to tear him a new kind of grief
cause there's a law around about getting bad things in a triple repeat
