I wish I could edit the sounds off of your last spin in this
  we could count the old times make believing only logical harm
  we could count the old lines make believing that nothing else will change
  well she can read she can read she can read she can read she's bad
  she can read she can read she can read she's bad
  oh she's bad
  
  but itÕs slippery now
  that IÕm poor and aging
  IÕll never see this face again
  you'll go stabbing yourself in the neck
  
  we could find new ways of living make believing only logical harm
  we could talk the old times play making and nothing else will change
  but she can read she can read she can read she can read she's bad
  she can read she can read she can read she's bad
  oh she's bad
  
  but itÕs slippery now
  that IÕm poor and aging
  IÕll never see this place again
  you'll go stabbing yourself in the neck
  
  it's in the way that she pulls it
  it's in the things that she puts in my hair
  her stories are boring and stuff
  sheÕs always calling my bluff
  she puts the she puts the waste into my little heart
  and she gets in my room and she takes it apart
  oh she puts the waste into my little heart
  I say she puts the waste into my little heart
  
  she passed away
  
  itÕs in the way that you are
  heaven is every night
  she puts the waste in my heart
  she puts the she puts the waste into my little heart