yr tongue has a poisoned edge you drag across your friends on yr
way to kiss nicely the ass hole of a man with money
y'r so afraid of colors you take a bodyguard on walks
you sing like a maggot in a jar in damp webs
yr tits are hard as pumpkins
y'r getting very broad
y'r so provincial you don't know y'r provincial
once you were in the countryside for thirtyfive minutes and you never
forgot it
once you got off the plane in a foreign airport and that was enough
yr conversation runs on health food
yr mother has three dead men behind her and a rich one beside
yr father didn't have a chance & you look like him