I'm here to tell you I'm having
Yet another shitty day
I swear, sometimes my shitty days
Run into each other giving me a shitty week
I think I'm in the middle of a shitty month
My goddamn arm is totally fucked up
I want to cut it off at the elbow
I don't know what the fucking problem is!
I mean, I'm a hygienic clean girl
I smell good ya know...clean...squeaky!
Strawberry glycerin scented soap everyday,
All over me everywhere, come here...smell me
Taste me, good, hey?
Okay, you can stop now
'Cause you're making me feel uncomfortable
I hardly know you
Anyways, the point I'm making is
I'm a well-bathed clean little girl,
So then, what the fuck is up with my arm?
It absolutely has devastated me
It grosses me out
It hurts like a bastard,
Opposed to when I was having it done
And it hurt like a bitch
In the Bible it says you're not
Supposed to mutilate or decorate your body,
'Cause God will get really cheezed at you,
But that guy Jesus died for our sins, right?
So I figure when I get to heaven,
Right before I have a drink
With Bob Karsnarik and Andrew Wood
I'll get an appointment with God
And explain to Him,
\"I could wear long sleeve shirts
And no one would see them!\"
I hope He goes for it
I bet Krishna and those dudes
Would let me hang out at their pad
If God was too bummed at me
Or I could just wait at the gates for my mom,
'Cause she'll outlive me,
And then she could go talk to Him about me,
Kinda like she did when I got suspended
In grade ten for smoking
In the boys' washroom and she had
To schmooze the principal
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yet another shitty day
Sometimes I swear my shitty days
Run into each other
Giving me a shitty week
I think I'm in the middle of
A shitty month that's shitty!