He broke your heart into a billion cells.
He left you for some hotter girls.
Your tears and blood are running dry.
“Alright”, you say, “I’d rather die”.
It’s not so hard to kill yourself.
Slice your wrist with the knife in the shelf.
Insert your thumb into the socket.
Go ahead, just kick the bucket.
Soon, I’m sure, your corpse will be found.
And it’ll be dumped, six-feet below the ground.
Men will spit on your grave and move on.
And you’ll rot away, while the heartbreaker lives on!