I knew a girl with a scar on her face
I don't know if she was beautiful
She always looked away
But late at night when we'd had too much to drink
She'd lean close to me, and she'd say
"I think I'd let my kids play with guns
Don't want to raise another one like me
One who would fold so easily
Like a napkin in a wine gla**
That P.C. sh**'s so weak-a**
Don't think I want to raise another one like me
I think I'd let my kids play with guns"
And I'd want so badly just to kiss her
But all I could ever do was hit her
And her mouth would bleed
And she'd crawl across the floor
And quietly behind the bathroom door
She would say
"I think I'd let my kids play with guns
Don't want to raise another one like me
One who would fold so easily
Like a napkin in a wine gla**
That P.C. sh**'s so weak-a**
Don't think I want to raise another one like me
I think I'd let my kids play with guns"