As Always

there she goes. perfecting lonliness at three am. the radio is humming tunes of forgotten songs we love. songs we hate. songs we crave. songs we buried up to this date, you see? grab a knife, no gun, better gasoline, stick it in, kill all you felt. burn it up yeah, cut em up, yeah, show the motherfuckers we ain't playin. guess what? now, to this date we worked well, but bitter days came across and puzzled what we thought was love. thought was hate, thought was safe, thought was lust, but we gave up anyway. i hate you and your fucking friends, too.