Smut


Smut, down on your luck Oh, you fuck
Preaching about things you don't understand,
You're every bad band's number one fan
And every word I have to hear is just more damage to my ears
No wonder you are not alone, you talk about things like you're known

You're suspect at your best when you're undressed
You fail at life give it a rest
Take a breath analyze those steps
That led to you becoming such a mess

You're such a mess

From the start you were bad news; never had a clue
You were just a tool often used
You think you're a dime; you think you shine
But let me put those ideas to rest
You are only as good as the whore who is next
Second best, close to a night that ends in death

Can we believe a word you say?
If I had to guess I'd bet you would detest monogamous bliss, a life without trysts,
Your looks will fade with age and no one will remember that you exist







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