Song of Substance, by Sandwich Massacre Subscribe to rss feed for Sandwich Massacre

A* something something something
Something something something
Something! X2

Blond bitches, abercrombie fitches
tight shirts, short skirts 
five carrots, some corn and celery in their dishes
boys, girls, cars, and mascara
football, chearleading. And the breakfast banana
nike, adidas, getting down wit da’ fubu
pink fingernails and everything from malibu
surfing, chearing, pep rallying, and posing
britney, avril, timberlake, our society’s depleting

C* Fuck! Why the fuck are you fucking?
Your fucking, stop fucking, with me
I’m tired of your useless, pointless compilation of
nothingness
Words
You’re all a bunch of turds!

Duh! What? I know I’m pretty
But I’m too fat, I bought neutraslim from TV
Get me skinny, oh look, count my ribs
That’s not enough, my eyes are sinking in!
Turning kind of purple, I’ll hide it with my cover up
What the hell are UFO’s?
Punk rockers are all cracked up

C

Oh, so leave us alone, we’ll leave you alone if you leave
us alone
Don’t tell me about the guy next door and your tanning
galore
 Don’t ask me about geso, you don’t even care
Your too fucking ghetto, I see your sparkly underwear
I couldn’t give a shit and your pants don’t fit
Their too fucking tight, I can still see your cellulite  

C
2003
Posted: 2005-11-06 16:34:23 UTC

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