Lyrics to Goddamn You, Mr. Rosewater
Dear future Gaslighter, much esteemed
It seems your estimation underestimated me
so if you and your concubine could combine your assets
We could throw an injunction on your injustice
Because you got me pegged as the wrong kind of Rosewater
I'm good to beggars but I'm not the farmer's daughter
So, watch your appendages or you might need some bandages
You need man's laughter for manslaughter
Dear future Gaslighter, trash basket
It must be awful convenient to be able to build your own casket
All is on the table, we're taking back the welcome mat
We want our income back
You got me pegged as the wrong kind of rosewater
I'm good to beggars but I'm not the farmer's daughter
So, watch your appendages or you might need some bandages
You need man's laughter for manslaughter
Dear future Gaslighter, so mature
You don't even know what a good thing's worth
You don't know how to make it hurt
But you sure as hell make stupid look like work
And you got me pegged as the wrong kind of rosewater
Well, you're like a beggar but I'm not the farmer's daughter
So, watch your appendages or you might need some bandages
And I don't need laughter, just manslaughter
Go on this way, I dare you to
go on this way for the rest of your days
May there be so many days like this
It seems your estimation underestimated me
so if you and your concubine could combine your assets
We could throw an injunction on your injustice
Because you got me pegged as the wrong kind of Rosewater
I'm good to beggars but I'm not the farmer's daughter
So, watch your appendages or you might need some bandages
You need man's laughter for manslaughter
Dear future Gaslighter, trash basket
It must be awful convenient to be able to build your own casket
All is on the table, we're taking back the welcome mat
We want our income back
You got me pegged as the wrong kind of rosewater
I'm good to beggars but I'm not the farmer's daughter
So, watch your appendages or you might need some bandages
You need man's laughter for manslaughter
Dear future Gaslighter, so mature
You don't even know what a good thing's worth
You don't know how to make it hurt
But you sure as hell make stupid look like work
And you got me pegged as the wrong kind of rosewater
Well, you're like a beggar but I'm not the farmer's daughter
So, watch your appendages or you might need some bandages
And I don't need laughter, just manslaughter
Go on this way, I dare you to
go on this way for the rest of your days
May there be so many days like this
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