I hate me, I'm loser
I'm dummkopf, I'm stupid
I hate you, I'm sorry
I'm awful, I'm evil
Forgive me, I should be
Castrated, mutilated
And stripped down and burned at the stake
Compliments to the chef, it's good as it gets
But I'm afraid
I'm afraid
I just want this problem
To go away
Sprinkle in a little self-hate
Drop a pinch of bottled-up rage
Mix it up and serve it on a plate
It tastes like pain, it tastes like pain
It tastes like pain, it tastes like pain, it tastes like pain
And I'm to blame
And I'm to blame
And I'm to blame
