When I wrote this I thought it would be funny to put these sorta twisted lyrics with a sweet love ballad type tune. I still do. But it is just a joke… please don’t have your therapist email me… or I’ll kill you.
Bare Hands
I’m trying to locate the right way to say that I can’t stand the sight of your face
To somehow explain that you are to blame that everything turned out this way
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I hope you die in a most painful way
Maybe you should go and not come back
Don’t take this personal ‘cause it’s a fact
We get along like gas and fire
Every time you come around, I get this strange desire
I want to kill you with my bare hands
I want to kill you with my bare hands
I’ve heard people say that a person can change but I thought that it might take some time
But you went from Gandhi to Hitler it seems, all right in front of my eyes
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I hope you die sometime later today
(Repeat chorus)