Harmalade
Blowing hot air
Is your daily charade
You don't impress us
We think you're insane
Your bullying tactics
Have lost their grip
Everyone ignores you
We don't give a rip
What worked at first
Just puts us to sleep
Now we think you're
A desperate creep
You're dead to us
You no longer count
Ron is in
And you are out
Once you were
The Golden Boy
Now you are
An old broken toy
You had your chance
And screwed it all up
Its time to zip your lips
And shut the fuck up
Chorus
Life's too short
For your escapades
We want some honey
Not your Harmalade
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