You're the usual compliment guy
Telling women how beautiful they are
And how much better you would treat them than their boyfriend
Who you keep insulting
You are like the ***
Picking through bones at the junkyard
Searching for a part you can use
With no care factor about the
Wreckage you rip it from
But at least you found that usable part
And now you convince yourself that
The car is better off without it
And aren't you so great
You scrapped that girl for junk parts
And blamed it all on her ex mate
Junkyard jockeys, like you
Always come in late