You play guitar You play it well Well you can kiss my ass You can go to hell Go to hell I used to love you Way back when Back before you left And you ain't never coming home Again I hope you keep a-hold of that special little part That we created together there before we split apart You were all That I ever was A fading memory now Like a morning-after buzz A Budweiser breakfast Just to dull the pain Another bout of nausea Now it's all coming up, it's coming up Again I hope you keep a-hold of that special little part That we created together there before we split apart Now I'll admit That I might have been wrong For all those terrible times When we just couldn't seem to get along And I'll 'fess up That I wasn't so long But I thought they said the length Doesn't matter I hope you keep a-hold of that special little part That you so gently ripped from my fucking bleeding heart You play guitar You play it well |