Well I hope you're lonely as fuck.
As my fingers hit the keyboard,
I hope you use up your luck.
Because of a bong accident,
I think I'd be the last one to love you.
That's not entirely true,
there may be a few,
But I still wouldn't be able to.
So one feeling has taken me over
They call this infection "regret"
And I guess I'm a little ashamed
That I let you get into my head.
And other parts of me.
They hate me for it too.
I'm trying to repair my heart
And I'm trying to hate you.
