Sons of bitches, crocodile tears in their eyes, we scare them shitless just by showing up alive, why don't you tell'em to shove it?They might as well love it, give you the runaround, don't let'em grind ya down.
Evil bastards ain't got nothin'else to do, make your life a misery and put you off your food, don't you dare to go under, don't let'em steal your thunder, listen to the sound, well, let'em grind that down