Lyrics

Fuelled by far too much tea, she writes shit poetry
It's just prose put in lines and stanzas
About her crippling addiction to dramatization
Of run-of-the-mill circumstances

Be wary of the sweet talk that she slurs
'cause she'll screw you in all senses of the word

It's not that I don't think she's pretty
But it's her drama not looks that could kill
Trying too hard to elicit pity
Through pretend domestics and diet pills

She's got polaroid pictures adorning her wall
Of dozens of boys, heard she's had them all
How on earth she concludes there's a mutual allure eludes me
I'm far from enthralled