What gives you the right to stick your hand in my pocket
I've worked hard for my things, you just can't take them
You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you cry like an animal from the pack
And I never, ever said it was fair and I can't see the point in talking to you
I want to kill something
I want to kill something
I want to kill something
I want to kill something
I didn't ask you here, this weight that I'm feeling
Two wrongs might make this right, revenge is fleeting
I call like an animal with an instinct
And contempt springs to mind when I think of what used to mine
