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This might be satire
Propagandhi Lyrics
This might be satire Lyrics
This might be satire by Propagandhi
And I wanna walk you home from school.
And I wanna carry your books to every class.
And I wanna f**k you up the ass.
Girl, don't you know it's true,
how much I love you.
I wanna sing it 'cross the land,
oh won't you hold my hand?
She tells me that she loves me,
Now I'm gonna tell her that I love her.
She tells me that she loves me,
Now I'm gonna try and f**k her.
But where the hell are my priorities?
Left in the hands of the authorities.
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