goodbye, my life will soon en i know they'll all blame you as for all the flowers i sent you bastard, you let them die too! when i'm dead how sorry you'll be all that grief upon your plate then you'll have to make time for me but, ha, ha!, by then you'll be too late i see the headlines on the front page 'singer kills himself for love' think of all the hurt and outrage it would cause in my fan club loading rocks into their purses they will lay in wait for you cover you in spit and curses it's your worst fears all coming true newspapers will pull apart the poor excuses you gave a million fans with broken hearts their tears will rain down on my grave your life will be hell from now on, like a wave they'll all be coming at ya in an angry human sea a quick one upon your hotel room floor is all i'm wanting you for cost you too much to reject me my girl gang can get quite mad so make love to me my dear to turn me down would be real bad one phone call ... i can bring those harpies here and i bet my golden balls that all my fans pull and tear and with ugly midnight phone calls turn your sweet dreams into nightmares with jealous mouths like snarling roses you will see them close in and singing songs that i've composed they'll slowly rip you limb from limb your life will be hell from now on...