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 And 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