| Summer of Our Discontent |
|---|
| «Oh, I really hate this place,» she said |
| Putting on her makeup by the unmade bed |
| Mascara for the lonely want |
| Call our waitress «honey» then they tip with ones |
| The summer of our discontent |
| Every dollar earned was already spent |
| Bitter sweat and circumstance |
| Layaway dreams, choked on first breath |
| A little bit of suffering’s |
| Just what you need to sweeten things |
| Remind you of what’s good, and pure |
| A little suffering might cure ya' |
