Fireplace

I hate your guts

wouldn't even help if you were stuck

in some guy's basement

and he was getting ready to chop you up.

And I hate your face,

wouldn't even help you if he chased

you down Belmont Ave.

and threw your body in his fireplace.

I get high off the thought of you on fire.

I don't know why, but it's true.

You must be a special kinda stupid,

you can't see all that you've ruined.

I hate your brain,

if you even got one, it's such a shame.

You're gonna make a great filet

on a tray at the murderer's buffet.

I hate everything you say.

You're such an asshole.

Were you born that way?

I don't know how you made it to this age,

but now you're up in flames.

I get high off the thought of you on fire.

I don't know why, but it's true.

You must be a special kinda stupid,

you can't see all that you've ruined.

How's your skin smell?

I'll see you in hell.

Maybe it'll change you and we'll get along well.

But for now I find

comfort in my mind

thinking 'bout you inside

the fireplace of that guy.

I hate your guts

wouldn't even help if you were stuck

in some guy's basement

and he was getting ready to chop you up.

I get high.

I get high.

I get high.

I get high.

I get high off the thought of you on fire.

It makes me smile when I feel blue.

All those shitty things

you’ve done that I’ll remember

when he’s coming after you.