Dmfd

(альбом: Seven's Travels - 2003)

Not certain exactly how I should approach this
Maybe conjure up a storm of locusts
Or maybe cockroaches
Or a gang of angry bees
Some type of plague or disease
It's all the same to me
Of everyone I know, I like you the least
I've lost all respect I could have ever carried (Gone)
Now I curse your name when it's mentioned
I'd shoot you in your face if I thought it would relieve the tension
When I see, you my temper's temperament just sky rockets
I wanna grab a pipe wrench and put a dent in your eye socket
Pry apart your jaws, pull out all your teeth
Shove a funnel in ya, fill you up with ammonia and bleach
Gotta get a grip, can't let you effect me like this
But I'm pissed, you're at the top of my shit list
I wish you'd slit your wrist and kiss an electric fence
So the means can finally justify the ends
I stare at you in contempt, you look at me the same
Won't be content till I forget your fucking name
Here I am once again, high out of my mind
Staring at the bathroom mirror screaming "Die motherfucker die"