Your mother's house is like a tomb, With funeral wreaths in every room, But I've got nothing left to greave. I hate it here I want to leave. I miss my mom, and I hate your friends, And the Christmas party never ends, Until we hear the family sing: "God is love, Love is all around, In the dirt and in the bodies underground. Love will pick you up and drag you down." But I wouldn't do that to you, No I wouldn't do that to you. Your boyfriends got a lot of nerve To get the girl that I deserve. He doesn't know your charms at all, I tried to reach you, I tried to call. He puts you down and treats you mean, He calls you dirty and unclean, And I can hear his virgin scream: "God is love, Love is all around, In the dirt and in the bodies underground. Love leaves you dirty And whispers love can make you pure." But I wouldn't do that to you, No I wouldn't do that to you.