Now, this will be the last bitter song It will be my last, real bitter song about you From now on, I'll write about flowers and bu*terflies Chickens and kittens and sh** From now on, I'll try to look myself in the face From now on, I'll try to find someone who knows I exist So I won't have to feel like I do When I write my bitter songs This is my last real bitter song About you I won't have to mention she was blonde and thin with a peanut for a brain and volleyballs for chest
I won't have to mention: that's always what happens When you leave him your key, he ends up having s** in your apartment with miss Non-Bitterness So this will be the last bitter song I'm feeling cheerful already I'd like to break his neck, if I may But most, I'd like to cut off that hair And cut off that head And cut off those volleyballs And I hope her heart gets broken And I hope she turns bitter, really really bitter Like me