Ah to be 22, washed up and fuckin' through. You're a pair of K-mart shoes: plastic and phony and with the belief that happiness in life is matrimony. Padlocked to wedlock cuz time's a wastin' to hurry up and waste your life in marriage. Entrapment = death, caught in a web, sentenced to a harsh life of eating meals together and sharing the same bed, ick! How about you just invite me to the divorce instead. Skip the serenade and the bullshit promises your mom and dad would've made. Honeymoon narcosis brains in a love-bong like anyone really waits that long cuz the way I see it you were already fucked way before you ever got fitted for the stupid tux. You are fucking losers, and I hope your kids are ugly.