Mary is Bert from The Used - pass it on
I hate, hate, hate what you are.
(You're so pretty when you fly right by.)
I hate, hate, hate what you are.
(I want to flush out your family line.)
Cuz i'm the punk rock, punk rock star!
(You're everything I despise.)
I hate, hate, hate what you are.
Don't you come near me.
Don't you come close to me.
Why don't you fear me?
Don't dance so close to me.
Don't you come near me.
Don't you come close to me.
Because they wont let me stop now.
Because I wont stop, can't stop now.
i don't know what i've become . . .
.... but i love it.
This is to a flirt who got into my head with all the pretty things she did, hey...
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Okay, so I had nothing to say. Hate me.
... well, now that I think of it, I have a little observation on the object of 'trust'. Trust is like a barrel of ten apples. The more apples you give away to others for them to borrow, and presumably return to you at a certain time unscathed because you don't want to carry ten whole apples in a barrel, the less you have for yourself. Odds are that a few or more of those people are going to ruin your apples, and in turn, ruin what you could have had from the start had you not trusted people not to ruin them.
So enough with the Garden of Eden complex... What I'm saying is that 99% of the time, trust is a terrible thing. I think you can be more content without it. There are some people you can trust... But keep that list down to one or two. You'll be better off. But when you're me, and you know how to solve everything on your own, you could kind of imagine that I don't need it. I have no problems, no worries, so what's the use? You high school kids are craaaazy... This is the point where Molly Cass gives me that look that makes me feel nailed to a cross.
(You're so pretty when you fly right by.)
I hate, hate, hate what you are.
(I want to flush out your family line.)
Cuz i'm the punk rock, punk rock star!
(You're everything I despise.)
I hate, hate, hate what you are.
Don't you come near me.
Don't you come close to me.
Why don't you fear me?
Don't dance so close to me.
Don't you come near me.
Don't you come close to me.
Because they wont let me stop now.
Because I wont stop, can't stop now.
i don't know what i've become . . .
.... but i love it.
This is to a flirt who got into my head with all the pretty things she did, hey...
---------------------
Okay, so I had nothing to say. Hate me.
... well, now that I think of it, I have a little observation on the object of 'trust'. Trust is like a barrel of ten apples. The more apples you give away to others for them to borrow, and presumably return to you at a certain time unscathed because you don't want to carry ten whole apples in a barrel, the less you have for yourself. Odds are that a few or more of those people are going to ruin your apples, and in turn, ruin what you could have had from the start had you not trusted people not to ruin them.
So enough with the Garden of Eden complex... What I'm saying is that 99% of the time, trust is a terrible thing. I think you can be more content without it. There are some people you can trust... But keep that list down to one or two. You'll be better off. But when you're me, and you know how to solve everything on your own, you could kind of imagine that I don't need it. I have no problems, no worries, so what's the use? You high school kids are craaaazy... This is the point where Molly Cass gives me that look that makes me feel nailed to a cross.