Well 歌词

You put your hands upon it But it only ever squirms You're staring in the mirror And you're counting every germ I'm not surprised she left you That she found the nerve to tell The thing you claim to love so much You don't do very well I'm sure someone will love you 'Til the day that they must die And someone will mourn for you With bitter, tear-stained eyes Will this be enough for you? You got them in your spell Because the thing you claim to hate You do it very well Was it written in the stars Or in your mother's gut Will you be as pure as snow Or just some angry mutt? The price of it has just gone down And you did not think to sell But in doing all these hateful things You are unparallel At doing all these hurtful things You really do excel The truthfulness must leave the room If I ever wish you well