You look so pretty in your glass house,
Stones in hand.
You look so silly in your glass house,
Thinking you could withstand
All the gasoline
Burning up those bridges you built.
I guess when you were fifteen
You weren't thinking about all this guilt.
You look so silly with that little kettle,
Making fun of the *** behind her back.
Those words stinging her like nettles,
Until, finally she cracks.
You look so mean standing there
Ruining lives without care