I hate the way you sleep;

the bucking and the clucking

and the grinding of your teeth

And can I say

I hate the way you eat;

the slopping and the chopping

and the sucking of your teeth

I hate the way you breathe.

I hate the way you wash;

the way you hold the flannel

the bucket and the mop

Being with you never

ever ever seems to stop

It just goes on and on and on and on

I'm driven to despair

and by the way

I hate the way you're always bloody there