here's a nice big fuck you
to those we thought were friends
but just pretended
a nice big middle finger
for those who can ruin my mood without even opening their mouth to say hello
and they don't ever
say hello
no
to a FRIEND who's been away for a while
to a FRIEND who's come bearing gifts because it seems that loving isn't enough anymore
was it ever?
no, nothing's enough for you
YOUR gift is one of confusion and madness and sadness
the THINGS you gave and said and did before mean nothing now
i see that they never meant anything anyhow
of course not
but how
how can you spend a life pretending
surrounding yourself by pseudo-people, a pseudo-life
tricking yourself into being what we're supposed to be: "happy"
you're no happier than i, and i try
i try to see to the truth, the cause of the anguish
but by and by i come to the same wall.. is it this what's holding me back from the perfect life i dream of?
this perfect world when i get everything done and all there is is time
time to love and time to share it and to do together the things that bring us joy
and i see that it's impossible
because of you?
is that why?
and i wonder: is it my fault for not seeing who's real and who's not?
you're not, i see now, but who else?
you self-medicate and wag your jaw so everyone's impressed
everyone's "chill"
what you don't realize is by making yourself "chill" you make yourself cold
"whatever" is your answer to everything
nothing really matters anymore
until it may start to oppose one of your upstanding closeminded opinions about some small literal thing
(you have them for everything)
then the belittling begins
belitting to make yourself big, to make yourself you
you, of all people, don't even see what you do
you couldn't even spare the 3 seconds it might take to even think of me
or how i feel
or how i care when i wish i didn't
then i hate myself even more for giving a shit
about someone who with the one sentence they speak to me in a slow motion night can ruin my entire plot to make it a warm reunion.
instead, shit
i feel like shit
you do it without even trying, without even caring
the fury within me rises as the music pounds louder and the din of your conceit makes me want to explode
so i do
i blow up and i hit you
with all of the selfishness that i've learned from you
i may be a novice but i pick up quick from observing you
i lay it all on now, it's my time now
fuck you
fuck your "friends"
who are your masochistic desire, friends that hurt and get hurt
you wouldn't know how to be one or make one
or keep one
not this one
to those we thought were friends
but just pretended
a nice big middle finger
for those who can ruin my mood without even opening their mouth to say hello
and they don't ever
say hello
no
to a FRIEND who's been away for a while
to a FRIEND who's come bearing gifts because it seems that loving isn't enough anymore
was it ever?
no, nothing's enough for you
YOUR gift is one of confusion and madness and sadness
the THINGS you gave and said and did before mean nothing now
i see that they never meant anything anyhow
of course not
but how
how can you spend a life pretending
surrounding yourself by pseudo-people, a pseudo-life
tricking yourself into being what we're supposed to be: "happy"
you're no happier than i, and i try
i try to see to the truth, the cause of the anguish
but by and by i come to the same wall.. is it this what's holding me back from the perfect life i dream of?
this perfect world when i get everything done and all there is is time
time to love and time to share it and to do together the things that bring us joy
and i see that it's impossible
because of you?
is that why?
and i wonder: is it my fault for not seeing who's real and who's not?
you're not, i see now, but who else?
you self-medicate and wag your jaw so everyone's impressed
everyone's "chill"
what you don't realize is by making yourself "chill" you make yourself cold
"whatever" is your answer to everything
nothing really matters anymore
until it may start to oppose one of your upstanding closeminded opinions about some small literal thing
(you have them for everything)
then the belittling begins
belitting to make yourself big, to make yourself you
you, of all people, don't even see what you do
you couldn't even spare the 3 seconds it might take to even think of me
or how i feel
or how i care when i wish i didn't
then i hate myself even more for giving a shit
about someone who with the one sentence they speak to me in a slow motion night can ruin my entire plot to make it a warm reunion.
instead, shit
i feel like shit
you do it without even trying, without even caring
the fury within me rises as the music pounds louder and the din of your conceit makes me want to explode
so i do
i blow up and i hit you
with all of the selfishness that i've learned from you
i may be a novice but i pick up quick from observing you
i lay it all on now, it's my time now
fuck you
fuck your "friends"
who are your masochistic desire, friends that hurt and get hurt
you wouldn't know how to be one or make one
or keep one
not this one
