Letter Bomb

I'm tired of being bossed around
Getting the runaround
Sweep your floors, empty your trash
You're the one that makes the cash

Tired of being a pissant, nine to five
Open my letter, you won't be alive

Here's a present just for you
When you open it, you'll be through

Sit behind your desk, act like a king
Treat me like a human being
Give me the worst jobs, I'm getting mad
When you're dead, I'll be glad

Here's a present just for you
When you open it, you'll be through

Plastic explosive on your letter
You'd be better off dead
Hope that building crumbles
On your head
Die, die!



Credits
Writer(s): Keith G. Morris, Greg W. Hetson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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