"Well the hell do you think you're doing?"
Well I'll tell you what i told every guy
And just finish an unsuccessful suicide.
Because I trusted you and you knew how i felt but i suppose that feeble stupid mind of yours requires it to have my emotion to be spelt.
Oops did i say "spelt"?
I meant "spilled", like the way the blood did in this sink.
Looking back at these empty canisters makes me wonder and remember that you sure as hell weren't worth it.
I changed for you and all you do is feed me lies to the point where i dont want to hear your voice any more.
But things will stay the same and I'll keep popping and dropping and tripping.
But you could care less about that couldn't you?
