One, two, one, two. I saw you at a party, so I waited in the kitchen for my friends. You wanted to say sorry, but I want to see your body in a ditch. You held me down and told me that I thought that you were handsome, but you're wrong. A friend called it a damn shame, cause you're really good at playing along. And if I had the guts, I would've punched you in the back room, left you bleeding on the kitchen tiles. While I cleaned up in the bathroom, you thought you were an actor, claimed a hammered body double. Then you wrote yourself a letter to my name for all your trouble. I told my friend about you, he was so upset I thought he might've cried. But outside on the pavement, well it turned to I like playing with the guy. I don't know about my body, it feels like the wrong parts were sent to me. All these feelings I can't name yet, claimed and touched and played with in my sleep. And if I had the guts, I would've said you can't repair it. Screamed and cried outside the venue to make sure you were embarrassed. Acted just insane enough for your friends to claim hysterics. And all the men who couldn't sleep with me would testify and swear it. But do their mothers know? Do their mothers know? I know it's not really her fault but I, I do think that she cries like a wolf. I know it's really not her fault but I, I do think that she cries like a wolf. If I had the guts I would've punched you in the back room. If I had the guts I would've punched you in the back room. If I had the guts I would've punched you in the back room. Left you bleeding on the kitchen top while I cleaned up in the bathroom. You thought you were an actor, claimed a hammered body double. Then you wrote yourself a letter, Then you wrote yourself a letter to my name for all your trouble. Does your mother know? Does your mother know?