Such a sensitive opinion in one so young
Would you like to know about everything
You believe what you read in the printed lies
But you won't believe the evidence
And yes I've done a lot of things
You'd probably call a crime
But I don't feel guilty for anything
That'll keep the little buggers
Here comes some text which isn't printed
How, how you love it, how you love it
You go out and you find it
How you love it, how you love it
Such horror, oh such a farce
Just a little bit of broken glass
You should think yourself lucky
You'll have something you can whine
Me thinks the lady doth protest too much
Composição: Justin Sullivan / Robert Heaton
