Karma.

Sixty sleeping pills and whiskey I wash down your throat
and leave you gagging, while I go out
to buy shoes, to dye my hair, to drink with friends.
You are left bedridden, handcuffed, you pretty, foolish shrew.
I guess you never knew, never saw my limits, walked
right past them with your hat and your coat.
Bastard.
Oh, you heard - or read.
Next time
we play this game
I'll be in the drivers seat
and you'll be in the boot
screaming for your life,
pretty, foolish shrew.
I guess you never knew.
Karma is a bitch
and I just changed my name.