I'm an M-80 burning at both ends
There's a perpetual itch inside my skin
The next forty years are closing in on whatever's left to smash

And I promise when I self-destruct
I'll at least make a funny sound
Wouldn't want her to go unentertained for a second
When I'm around

She slant-drills and she undermines
She's the anti-bird spikes on the pet store sign
Burning everything she's left behind

Little heartbreaker, ha ha ha

So combat fatigues and war supplies
No one sees all the nothing in my eyes
And I won't wear your smiley face disguise

Happiness is no longer an option