Goodbye, my life will soon en
  i know they'll all blame you
  as for all the flowers i sent
  you bastard, you let them die too!
  
  when i'm dead how sorry you'll be
  all that grief upon your plate
  then you'll have to make time for me
  but, ha, ha!, by then you'll be too late
  
  i see the headlines on the front page
  'singer kills himself for love'
  think of all the hurt and outrage
  it would cause in my fan club
  
  loading rocks into their purses
  they will lay in wait for you
  cover you in spit and curses
  it's your worst fears all coming true
  
  newspapers will pull apart
  the poor excuses you gave
  a million fans with broken hearts
  their tears will rain down on my grave
  
  your life will be hell from now on,
  like a wave they'll all be coming at ya
  in an angry human sea
  a quick one upon your hotel room floor
  is all i'm wanting you for
  cost you too much to reject me
  
  my girl gang can get quite mad
  so make love to me my dear
  to turn me down would be real bad
  one phone call ... i can bring those harpies here
  
  and i bet my golden balls
  that all my fans pull and tear
  and with ugly midnight phone calls
  turn your sweet dreams into nightmares
  
  with jealous mouths like snarling roses
  you will see them close in
  and singing songs that i've composed
  they'll slowly rip you limb from limb
  
  your life will be hell from now on...