“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 my 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’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.“
