I think if given the opportunity
I’d have stayed in bed that day.
I want you to know I hate you.
I genuinely hate you.
She fucked me up too early.
She cared about me too late.
She wanted to love until the morning.
She kept telling me it was fate.
She took my love, and split it in two.
She fucked around with men she barely knew.
She told me that she’d always stay.
She told me that she wouldn’t run away.
Everyone says the same things.
Promises that they’ll always stay.
And I’ve been with enough people to know
I shouldn’t believe in better days.
