Will they throw stones,
girl's panties, or pennies?
I do not know,
and I don't care.
You haven't heard from me,
'cause I've been very busy,
with voodoo dolls, one by one,
tear out the hairs.
I can still kick the shit out of myself better than you can.
So what?
I changed the words,
to the one I wrote about forgiveness,
what do you care?
A little bit of truth,
and you go throwin' your arms up,
in a fit, with a fist,
tearin' out your hair.