It's a declarative: I didn't want you.
Figures, right?
Don't get all aw shucks on me
It wasn't true, and you know it
The writer's mind is a dangerous thing
That's where I can manipulate you
Use you, bend you, twist you
You become anything I want
That's not to say I didn't appreciate
The view I had from the outside
The love, the car, the windowedexterior
But we all realized the truth
Those of us who passed from one room toanother
Then back again, making impressions
Discussed only outside, in the quiet,miles away
She's going to leave you someday,
if that hasn't already happened.
We know you aren't on the same page
And that's a shame, because it's just
A lie of a picture-perfect life.
