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Oh-oh-oh-oh Throwing up on the carpet Giving up, I've decided All my guts in my pockets Oh, oh, yeah, I tuck it Little holes in my stomach Got a heart that's in constant waste He's got your blood, your food It's all so bad, I must Leave and get drunk, I'll eat with my boys Never had a fight, yeah Never had a fight, yeah Wish that you were mad at me no more Wish that you were mad at me no more So sick of acting anything that you're not Know that you are so mad at me I think you're really mad at me I wish that you were mad at me I think I'm gonna die Think I'm gonna die Die, die