Why...
Oh why must you get so upset.
The ane anger inside you takes off like a turbo jet
Makes me consume my feelings into debt
Even your stares make my silhouettes sweat
The way you put me down with every letter in the alphabet
Your evil words that escape faster than searching through today's internet
One thing is sad and it's that I do not play the clarinet
As where I can play a tune of my pain and record it on a audio cassette
My pain I rather endure by getting eaten alive by hungry mosquitos hiding under a net
Than to hear you evil words intoxicate me like a cigarette or even like our current president.