Call my pathetic,
Call me what you will.
Call me that brat,
Leave me for road kill.
Every cut slices into my soul,
Making my heart scream for more.
The rush of relief every blemish brins,
fulfills the need I can't ignore.
Mock me all you like,
you'll never understand.
That without this release,
my life is bland.
Will you feel guilt when I'm gone
or did you know what would happen all along?
Was that always your aim?
To make me suffer alone with this pain?
This time my knife's too blunt,
but next time I'll make sure it's not.
You'd like that, wouldn't you?
Because you never did like me a lot...
What would it be like, I wonder
to put a gun to my temple
blow my brains across the wall and floor
My body slumped like a bag of lentils.
So call me pathetic,
call me what you will.
Little do you know, or maybe you do,
that it was you who drove me to kill...
Loverboy, you're playing those hearts like toys,
Don't you feel bad, don't you feel bad?
Filled with repent?
If given the choice would you do it again?
Of course I would, of course I should,
Well I'm your friend, friends with benefits.
~You Me At Six; Loverboy