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