Tekstovi: Chron Gen. Other. You Make Me Spew.

I dunno why you think that you are so brilliant
you think that you're superior to me
you may have won the last miss universe contest
but babe that doesn't mean a single thing

'Cos you - oh you - you make me spew

You're face is covered with a pound of polyfilla
you say it's just a bit of mascara
you look like some old whore that's just come out of Soho
the clothes you wear don't help you much at all

Times are hard and I ain't indifferent
you seem to bring the devil out in me
the way you always paint your nails
you're always watching T.V.