I Hate This Song

I hate this song, I hate this song
The chords are fuckin' stupid, they're predictable as shit
I want this song to be over fuckin' lickety-split, cause

I hate this song, I hate this song
I hated this song before it was cool to openly hate this song
Yeah, I'm a hipster about my own shit so everybody sing along
Come on!

I hate this song, I hate this song
I hate this song so much that you'll be left in disbelief
But when it's finally over, ooh, that's sweet relief

"Now what kind of relief am I talkin' about?"

Ladies and gentlemen of the people's republic of Marc with a C, you know what I'm talkin' about
I'm talkin' about that weird thing when you really have to go, you know?
But it's not that bad, and you're like, “I can totally wait until I get home - my bladder's like the hammer of Thor, I'm the best around, nothing's ever gonna keep me down, I am a man that will fight for your honor, I am the master, and/or mistress of my domain, possibly both, depending on the day!”
So, as you go home, the closer you get, the worse it starts to feel, and you're starting to think that you're about to burst
So, you're reaching in your pocket and you're looking for your keys, and you run to the bathroom
You're totally feeling like you're not gonna make it, and you start struggling with your zipper, and your thigh-high and your boots, until you say "screw it!"
You pull down your pants, or your skirt, or your whatever
And you sit down, and finally...
Sweet relief

(One, two, three, four!)

We hate this song, we hate this song!
I hate this song so much that you'll be left in disbelief
But when it's finally over, ooh, that's sweet relief
I really hate this song!