Live from an RV, the way only Wussy can do it.
Mother-daughter banquet at the Bethel Baptist Church.
You forgot her. That was bad, but I did something worse.
Bitter memories will lessen as you live.
“Bygones are bygones,” she says as she forgives,
But I can tell this will not end well.
I beg your pardon if what I’ve done has thrown you off your course.
It’s kindergarten, and you’re jumping on a dead and bloated horse.
Teacher tells you she’ll snatch you from your shoes.
You think about it, and the answer that you chose is “Go to hell.”
This will not end well.
If it’s now or never, never is the one that’s gonna win.
Then there’s forever – we’re waiting on forever to begin.
Our days are numbered, and the hour is drawing near.
Call me a killjoy, but I don’t think I hear those wedding bells.
This will not end will.