You put your
hands upon it
but it only
ever squirms
You're staring
in the mirror
and you're counting
every germ
I'm not
surprised
she left you
That she found
the nerve to tell
The thing you claim
to love so much
You don't do
very well
I'm sure someone
will love you
til the day that
they must die
And someone
will mourn for you
with bitter
tear-stained eyes
Will this be
enough for you
You got them
in your spell
Because
the thing
you claim
to hate
you do it
very well
Was it written
in the stars
or in your
mother's gut
Will you be
as pure as snow
or just some
angry mutt
The price of it
has just gone down
and you did not
think to sell
But in doing
all these
hateful things
you are unparallel
At doing
all these
hurtful things
you really do excel
The truthfulness
must leave the room
If I ever
wish you well