The worst part? Been humming this !*$&% tune all morning. (See below.) Thing's stuck in my head like glue....
Cripes, but I HATE this song:
And he don't know...
That I dug my key into the side
of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive,
carved my name into his leather seats.
I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights,
slashed a hole in all four tires.
Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.
Or, maybe next time he ll say to himself: Hmm. Should I date a rampaging psycho? Nah. Pass.
If another American Idol contestant recorded this song -- say Clay Aiken, for example well, OK, not Clay Aiken. But some guy, anyway, OK? If some guy sang this sociopathic ode, he d be court-ordered to report to the nearest intensive counseling program. Or, um, jail.
Please please please don t tell me this says anything about the actual state of interpersonal relationships
Then again, back in the day when I used to cover cops, I remember reading through report after report after report on domestic assaults, thinking to myself, Just how stupid can people get?
How about this? Stupid enough to write songs about jealousy-fueled felony vandalism. No wonder Dr. Phil is so lamentably popular.
Cripes, but I HATE this song Trust me: this version is a lot, LOT better.