I put my hate right into her

Because she never wanted to see

The sight of a lunch

That would never come free

 

If you ever want to know

She’ll tell you why the chained bird is on strike

The food is withheld

But just give her a bowl and a bottle of Mike’s

 

The Cheerios taste better

With a hate of the world

Your salvation is gone

And fuck it; tell all the boys and girls

 

Once you’ve killed the soul

It’s so much easier to get a grip

With my hate right into her

It was just a moment before she’d slip…