Why are we still sneaking behind the backs of people we don’t love anymore?
We don’t love 'em anymore
Because I am so sick of living in a bone dry marriage
I don’t even know what the fuck I’m even thing anymore
My kids a fucking pervert he smears cum on the computer desk
My husband, a money grubbing pill eating cheat
But I can’t say I don’t pop 'em too though
When I feel fuckin sick
I feel fuckin sick
Now that my gardens dried up What do I have to life for?
Where is the man of my dreams?
Where’s the cornucopia feast?
And cherry red convertible
I won’t ride the wings of my cockroach mother
I’m too young to die inside

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