A song about hate would be too easy,

A love song would make me sick.

They always complain about the way they live,

Or other people feeding off lies.

 

The Cinderella story is overdone.

I'd prefer a noose and a handgun.

No pixies or fairy dust,

But a nice shot of reality to the head.

 

It doesn't smell like fresh-baked pie,

And rarely does it taste as sweet.

Unless you find revenge a satisfying flavor,

Then i suggest you leave through the dream splattered door.

 

I refuse to trot along your beaten path,

"Speak the kings English" you say to me.

"Whose king?" I say,

A word smith is his own king over the feeble letters he muses.

 

Sure, your happy endings make you smile,

But do you really think that's what happens?

"Did Shrek save Fiona, or did Fiona save Shrek?" is what you say,

But no one ever told you I cared!

 

The bullet didn't shatter,

And the hero arrived too late.

Does it make you mad?

But you're still satisfied aren't you?