When you open your mouth, I dream of throwing a show at your face.
When you speak, I see you falling off a building.
Your red hair looks like a bird's nest in the firery pits of Hell.
Your voice worse than your claws on the chalkboard.
Maybe one day you will take a tumble off your pedestal, and never stop rolling.
Maybe one day you will see what you did to her.
You "teach" math but you cannot calculate how much I hate you.
You love yourself; I guess you're the only one.
This is for you, so take a second to listen to something other than yourself.
This is for you. Now go fuck yourself.