My dog and me have Post Dramatic Stress Disorder, PDSD.
Him from being forced to bathe, me from the world of dating.
I chose to stop stop dating twenty years ago, still more drama.
You bitches keep coming till I’ve no choice but bring trauma.
Into your ridiculously spun world of drugs, game after game.
Upon both of your names and your friends’, you bring shame.
Oh, I’m sure there will be more, your boy still hasnt bagged me.
And he won’t cause I loathe that little narcissist wannabe.