Of little rules I have, I sure will not pretend
To care if you type your words with "X" at the end
The presence or lack of a way to make girls swoon
Could never affect the effortlessness of a tune

But I still hate you
Though in the good way like I see in the tags
When they lovingly call you a fucking douchebag
And I thought that to someone as skilled
I'd never be so mean
Your expertise, it clouds my vision
Turns everything green
You were on iTunes at age sixteen

At this point in time, I'd rather live as you than me
You play countless instruments, but I play only three
So now that my hope to be as good as you is long gone
Can't you at least come and play a show across the pond?

I'd buy a ticket
And possibly wait with the crowd at the end
Standing by the stage doors just to become your friend
And if I could be one percent as stellar as you
I'd be set, oh woah
I bought your stuff instead of stealing from the internet
And so these purchases won't be ones I regret
Now I've heard your music and I'm not sure it's fair how
You're conventionally attractive while I resemble cows
I guess that you're great at everything from what I've seen
If that makes you king then I'd collab and be a queen

Rub your talent on me
And that sounds like I'm showing a sexual preference
No, I can assure you it's a SpongeBob reference
But I still despise you, I still want to kill you
You see, oh woah
Although I love your music and your albums, your EPs
You were on iTunes at age sixteen