I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.I hate the way you drive my car, I hate

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.I hate your big, dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.I hate you so much it makes me sick — It even makes me rhyme.I hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie.I hate it when you make me laugh — Even worse when you make me cry.I hate it when you’re not around. And the fact that you didn’t call.But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you — Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. -- source link

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