I would blame god, but fuck knows how he's feeling I would frame you, but you're just a stone's throw from my being And you just live across the hall The hall of deranged So cynically brain dead, oh, and chewing at the waste She's so tight below the waist How can I exchange this groan for raunchy taste? Oh... I got no money for you, myself Like pride propaganderous bate, my ego's on the shelf Next to a picture of my dearest sister, hmm Call me a bad friend Call me a bad friend 'Cause I'm just a bad friend 'Cause you're the inner city kind Don't trust a soul Mind you, I trust myself to get me over the bread line, oh Over the red line Over my wrecked life and down past the road signs 'Cause lately I ask why But that rips my brain clean out It makes me sorry to be alive So hand me the bread knife And I'll try my best to hurt ya with my weak inner fight Call me a bad friend Just call me a bad friend 'Cause I'm just a bad friend "Rude young woman" said everybody else But to me you're just well spoken Till your dad's head hit the curb And you just got referred You got some tablets I hope they work If not, I'll wrap my head around ya And love ya till it hurts But you don't seem to feel it Don't seem to feel nothing Why don't you feel nothing? Maybe it's cause I'm nothing, in the grand scheme of things