Please, Fuck Off

The Garden

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    Fuck off
    Fuck you
    Hit that light switch
    I can see your face now
    Make you get fucking lost
    Ain't no sacred cow
    Imagine life, like
    Thinking you're a boss
    Selfish little bitch

    You ain't no fucking loss
    Life for me, is never for the rewards
    All this suck dickin's got me fucking bored
    Even your grandma's dying to be adored
    You play that blame game
    Lame like Henry Ford
    Fuck you

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    I'm past the point of giving chances
    I don't got the space for that
    It's about time I look out for myself
    So it's fuck you if you're gonna be a rat
    I'm past the point of giving chances
    I don't got the space for that
    It's about time I look out for myself
    So it's fuck you if you're gonna be a rat
    Fuck you

    Congratulations
    You made it to the end of the song
    Just a few more seconds now
    Yeah, it wont be long
    Counting down the seconds
    Counting down the hours
    Until you zip that fucking lip
    Until you hit the showers

    My youth is asleep
    Or maybe I'm the one snoozing
    Back in the day I'd be asking for that real bruising
    Making music for a bunch of people that don't care
    I feel empty with that pointless tired fanfare
    Please, fuck off

    Song details

    Composition: Wyatt James Shears and The Garden

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