Your friends will miss me,
Even if you won’t.
They’ll help me move and wish me well,
Even though you don’t.
You wish me trouble,
Illness and forgetfulness,
Agnes, you’re killing me and,
The weapon's in your hand.
Frying pan, and an old paint can,
Pork and beans sure can injure a man.
Garbage can, large neighbor man,
I don’t even know you, sir.
She’s probably told you about my mess and my moods,
But I don’t even really know you, now dude.
Frying pan, and an old paint can,
The weapon's in your hand.
Your friends will miss me,
Even if you won’t.
They’ll help me move and wish me well,
Even though you don’t.
You wish me dying,
You wish me distress and loneliness,
And Agnes I ain’t lying,
The weapon's in your hand.
I don’t even know you now, Agnes,
But once I did, oh, how I did now, Agnes.
Now I don’t want to hear from you Agnes,
But if I do,
I’ll say that when we were kids,
We were crazy weren’t we, Agnes?
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