I hate you
For what its worth
I'm not sorry
I'm sick of you
You hurt me
Always inside my body
Petrified somebody
So go eat some shit
You freak
Don't come at me
You cunt
And for what's it worth
I've skull-fucked your mum
You fucking freak
For the final time I'm not sorry
It's over my head, I'm not sorry
Sick for all time. I'm not sorry
Oh you can't fucking stop me
My band is the greatest band of all the Post-Punk bands in Brixton
The Windmill loves us
We sell out shows every week-night, and Oh,
Oh they love us
I am eating my own poo
It does not remind me of you
And for what it's fucking worth
I'm not sorry anymore, I'm really not
I'm not fucking sorry
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