“You fucking bitch, do you know how much I suffer?
From this torment of gold,
a popularity contest between colleagues,
a puppet show by big hands.
You fucking bitch, do you know how much I toil,
To put bread in your hole
that only spouts nonsense
and shit fit for a king?
Have you any regard for what I feel?
When I see that meat in your hole,
of the bastard who dares to lay claim to my possession,
to my love.
You fucking whore.
Don’t plead me with those filthy eyes,
Or I’ll slap your ass sore the way that bastard did.
I’m tired of dancing,
of waltzing to your annoying whines.
So for the last fucking time, listen to me shout,
And go fuck yourself.”