I hate the way you talk to me,
And the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car,
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots
And the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
It even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you’re always right,
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
Even worse when you make me cry
I hate it when you’
I hate it when you’re not around,
And the fact that you didn’t call
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,
Not even close…
Not even a little bit…
Not even at all.
terça-feira, 22 de setembro de 2009
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