Lyrics:

Tales are told of terrible men
Of anger, poise and pride
She's got a lot of pickled onions
Hanging from her thighs
Then violence solved everything
Violence, she solved everything
Violence solved everything
Violence, she solved everything
Get some, get some, no pressure son
Get some, get some, no pressure son
If you want to press, press us
If you want to press, press us
If you want to go, if you want to go
If you want to go, if you want to go
If you want to press, press us

She faked her death for maximum love
Then loved until she fell
She's got a lot of opinions
A present from a friend
Then violence solved everything
Violence, she solved everything
Violence solved everything
Violence, she solved everything
Get some, get some, no pressure son
Get some, get some, no pressure son
If you want to press, press us
If you want to press, press us
If you want to go, if you want to go
If you want to go, if you want to go