What gives you the right to stick your hand in my pocket I've worked hard for my things, you just can't take them You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you cry like an animal from the pack And I never, ever said it was fair and I can't see the point in talking to you
I want to kill something I want to kill something I want to kill something I want to kill something
I didn't ask you here, this weight that I'm feeling Two wrongs might make this right, revenge is fleeting I call like an animal with an instinct And contempt springs to mind when I think of what used to mine