Well there's a feeling in this world
That causes unrest
Your ambition and success
Is what i detest
I try to be true
I'm trying my best
I'm not seduced by your cheap love
Hatreds and mess
You make me die
I heard all you gotta say
I heard it in school
About your soft-soap sex
And your sickly drawl
But you only care for yourself
Just like all the rest
You love you filthy god
And think you're the best
You make me die
TVs, videos, money and vice
Get you crawling on the floor
Like a suckin lice
You'll swallow seed
Before you take advice
Well someone should of told you girl
That ain't very nice
You make me die
Writer(s): Billy Childish
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