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You seem rather impressed with yourself As if the master of a nasty cool You might proudly mount a plaque on your shelf Quite the opposite of the Golden Rule When she left you that you might destroy us You vowed then forever more to "dog" her Was it you saw need to kill her because She knew you were capable of murder? That your campaign of so nasty revenge Would destroy also your three fine children Though of no concern to you, neatly trends With her apocalyptic projection Now, broken-down drunk, alone with your hurts Pray hard God save you from your just desserts |