Don't ask me what's in my head, don't pretend like you give a %#@!.
Don't ask me why I look so sad, cause I'll be happy when your $#&@ing dead.
Who the hell do you think you fool? can these games $#&@ing end?

And what the hell do you think you gain, pretending that we're friends?
I haven't figured out your $#&@ing cause, but it's not genuine.
And when the truth comes out in the end, I think I'll cut off your head.

And I'll be $#&@ing happy, when your $#&@ing dead, and I'll $#&@ing smile, when your $#&@ing dead