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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