Lyrics

Among the gifts and heirlooms
on the floor of Michael's room
Lies a box full of shirts
like a curse upon his name

Suffering, there he sits
I know he wants to call it quits
so I walk in with a grin
just to hear him cry again

Broke my son
that was fun
but the shirts aren’t in the mail
Broke my son
that was fun
what have I done? (broke my son, broke my son)
what have I done? (broke my son, broke my son)

A parody of Soundgarden, "Black Hole Sun"