I don't take kindly
to insults,
you bounder
You're floundering,
lines snagged,
jagged edge,
hung on the ledge,
strung up,
and hung up
on appearances
Talking in tongues,
the drain
in your brain
is bungled
by fumble tongued
junglist bunglers,
part time psyche burglars,
leaning on perceiving
what you think is weak
Well,
I can smell you,
and let me tell you,
overly applied deodorant
hardly compensates
for scant
rarely challenged
preconceptions
Deceiver
Deceptecon
The words in the song?
you got them all wrong.
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