quit messing with my head quit touchin on my heart, stop dishing out good news just to pry my chest apart; i don't know what you're doing and you know just what i am and i would really like to know if you even give a damn; do sidewalks with spilt slushee mean anything to you, or am i just creating worlds in which your impulse turns out true? your smile makes me sick as if i could get any worse; your poison voice fulfills me and your actions are a curse; and i rhyme because i cannot think of something else to do; you build me up and tore me down so id come back to you.
