iLoveYouWithaKnife
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2002
- Messages
- 8,351
i find myself lately
driving up the jeansville hill.
or just the last day or two.
as long as i had my car.
and it's been a while
2 years or so
since i had my license.
and now
i finally got it.
and i bought this car
on ebay, you see.
and got ripped the fuck off.
and i'm going to hold my breath
until the dealer checks it out
again on monday
and curse that nj sonofabitch.
but for now,
as i hold back my tears...
i'm going to fake smile
and be glad
that i finally have the car
i wanted for 5 years...
even though fixing the transmittion
is going to cost more
than what i bought the car for.
I'M A FUCKING SUCKER
i guess.
there's no other explanation.
i drop you off now,
and pick you up.
and now, i can't stand you.
you start a fight
cause i don't want you
to sleep over all the time.
and then throw it in my face
and blame me.
it's kind of sad,
when i'm driving that road
at 80, in what, a 25mph?
and i just don't give a fuck.
it's almost saying
like i wished i'd die...
cause the way you make me feel....
feels like i am.
but some fucking how...
i'm all wrong.
or so you say.
and knowing how badly
my car is fucked up
and how i got ripped off
you slam it into another gear
while i'm driving...
and fuck it up more.
and i swurve and scream
'what the fuck is wrong with you'
as i punch you in the face
and i don't care
if i fucking hurt you...
cause i'm at the point where
it's all i want to do
cause it's all you do
and sometimes getting even,
is good enough.
and you won't get the
fuck out of my car.
so i'll drive to the police station
and park inbetween the
two cruisers
and you can scream
'hey yo...'
to the police.
and maybe this time they'll here you.
i don't care if i get arrested
for being behind the wheel
after drinking for eight hours
and i don't care if i loose my license
and my car is taken away...
as long as you are out of my sight.
and all you want you say,
is your fucking records back.
and you can have them.
i'll drop you off at your mom's
drive to my house to get them.
but for some reason...
you think i won't return.
you bastard.
until finally, you make me swear
on my father's grave
if i return in 15 minutes
you'll get out of the car at your mom's.
so i pull away
and the cops don't see....
any of this bullshit going on.
and down the road i stop the car
because you are screaming at me again.
i bite my lip and turn my head
so you don't see me again...
because you've seen me like this
more times than many.
and i refuse to have it that way.
i drop you off and drive.....
and don't care if i'm in the lines....
and i blast this track...
and i don't care if i fucking crash....
that piece of fucking shit car
because at that moment..............
i feel so fucking free...
i feel released....
and i don't know from what.
it just feels so fucking good.
i walk in my house, and down my steps
grab your extra pair of glasses,
your bandana...
a shirt, a pair of jean
your sacony's
a full crate of records...
and another record bag
your black book (phone).
i get in MY car
the one you just fucked up more
and drive .....
and drop your shit off
so i never have to see you again
as you wished.
you leave a letter on my seat.
and i never cared to wish to read it.
i drive away and start to scream
and cry
about how much i fucking hate you.
but of course i did when i got home.
and we ended up sitting on the phone......
in absolute complete silence
for 2 hours.
i put down the phone....
a while ago...
but you were still on the line
when i picked it back up.
and awww...
again in a few days,
on friday to be exact
i have to pack all my shit
and put it in storage....
who knows where i will live.
because my roommate and her boyfriend
decide to get back together.
and i'm just left
trying not to be
an inconvenience
on anyone's life.
i'm worthless, pathetic...
a whore a bitch
whatever else
and i will die alone i guess...
it's just what you said.
and for once i'm starting
to believe you.
in what you say.
cause this life has given me
nothing to want to stay.
i can't even get a
fucking apartment in my name
i guess cause i look like trouble
even though i have a bank account
bigger than my attitude.
which is more than plenty.
or so you say.
i guess you talk the truth sometimes.
at somepoint tonight,
i really wished that you meant
what you said.
about never talking to me again.
cause it might make it easier for me.
i can't stay away from you.
perhaps you can help.
i love you
i'm not afraid to admit it.
and on my second to my last night
i'm going to crawl into my bed...
ahh finally... i sleep in one of those,
instead of on the couch
in someone's house.....
and try not to worry about
the fact i have to pack up
the day after thanks
and try to get a good night sleep....
but it'll all result in a tear soaked pillow
until i pass out.
driving up the jeansville hill.
or just the last day or two.
as long as i had my car.
and it's been a while
2 years or so
since i had my license.
and now
i finally got it.
and i bought this car
on ebay, you see.
and got ripped the fuck off.
and i'm going to hold my breath
until the dealer checks it out
again on monday
and curse that nj sonofabitch.
but for now,
as i hold back my tears...
i'm going to fake smile
and be glad
that i finally have the car
i wanted for 5 years...
even though fixing the transmittion
is going to cost more
than what i bought the car for.
I'M A FUCKING SUCKER
i guess.
there's no other explanation.
i drop you off now,
and pick you up.
and now, i can't stand you.
you start a fight
cause i don't want you
to sleep over all the time.
and then throw it in my face
and blame me.
it's kind of sad,
when i'm driving that road
at 80, in what, a 25mph?
and i just don't give a fuck.
it's almost saying
like i wished i'd die...
cause the way you make me feel....
feels like i am.
but some fucking how...
i'm all wrong.
or so you say.
and knowing how badly
my car is fucked up
and how i got ripped off
you slam it into another gear
while i'm driving...
and fuck it up more.
and i swurve and scream
'what the fuck is wrong with you'
as i punch you in the face
and i don't care
if i fucking hurt you...
cause i'm at the point where
it's all i want to do
cause it's all you do
and sometimes getting even,
is good enough.
and you won't get the
fuck out of my car.
so i'll drive to the police station
and park inbetween the
two cruisers
and you can scream
'hey yo...'
to the police.
and maybe this time they'll here you.
i don't care if i get arrested
for being behind the wheel
after drinking for eight hours
and i don't care if i loose my license
and my car is taken away...
as long as you are out of my sight.
and all you want you say,
is your fucking records back.
and you can have them.
i'll drop you off at your mom's
drive to my house to get them.
but for some reason...
you think i won't return.
you bastard.
until finally, you make me swear
on my father's grave
if i return in 15 minutes
you'll get out of the car at your mom's.
so i pull away
and the cops don't see....
any of this bullshit going on.
and down the road i stop the car
because you are screaming at me again.
i bite my lip and turn my head
so you don't see me again...
because you've seen me like this
more times than many.
and i refuse to have it that way.
i drop you off and drive.....
and don't care if i'm in the lines....
and i blast this track...
and i don't care if i fucking crash....
that piece of fucking shit car
because at that moment..............
i feel so fucking free...
i feel released....
and i don't know from what.
it just feels so fucking good.
i walk in my house, and down my steps
grab your extra pair of glasses,
your bandana...
a shirt, a pair of jean
your sacony's
a full crate of records...
and another record bag
your black book (phone).
i get in MY car
the one you just fucked up more
and drive .....
and drop your shit off
so i never have to see you again
as you wished.
you leave a letter on my seat.
and i never cared to wish to read it.
i drive away and start to scream
and cry
about how much i fucking hate you.
but of course i did when i got home.
and we ended up sitting on the phone......
in absolute complete silence
for 2 hours.
i put down the phone....
a while ago...
but you were still on the line
when i picked it back up.
and awww...
again in a few days,
on friday to be exact
i have to pack all my shit
and put it in storage....
who knows where i will live.
because my roommate and her boyfriend
decide to get back together.
and i'm just left
trying not to be
an inconvenience
on anyone's life.
i'm worthless, pathetic...
a whore a bitch
whatever else
and i will die alone i guess...
it's just what you said.
and for once i'm starting
to believe you.
in what you say.
cause this life has given me
nothing to want to stay.
i can't even get a
fucking apartment in my name
i guess cause i look like trouble
even though i have a bank account
bigger than my attitude.
which is more than plenty.
or so you say.
i guess you talk the truth sometimes.
at somepoint tonight,
i really wished that you meant
what you said.
about never talking to me again.
cause it might make it easier for me.
i can't stay away from you.
perhaps you can help.
i love you
i'm not afraid to admit it.
and on my second to my last night
i'm going to crawl into my bed...
ahh finally... i sleep in one of those,
instead of on the couch
in someone's house.....
and try not to worry about
the fact i have to pack up
the day after thanks
and try to get a good night sleep....
but it'll all result in a tear soaked pillow
until i pass out.
