I don't understand you.
You pretend you're so loyal,
but in the end you're just another worthless,
lying whore.
You try to pretend that you're the victim,
that the world's out to get you.
You just let yourself be run over.
I thought you said you hated her,
that you would never go back to her,
that you would never run back to her,
that you didn't care about her.
But why, then, did you?
Why did you break your promises?
Why did you make yourself the hated one again?
We all make mistakes, I'm sure,
but the only ones you've made is being brought
into this world and being naive.
Maybe you need her.
Maybe she makes you feel so much better.
Because I know I make you feel inferior,
because I don't act like a whore.
Because I don't pretend to be so frail, so useless,
so tortured and denied.
Because my life doesn't include people like that.
I know you may feel like I've done this to you,
but I really don't care.
Does she really make you feel justified?
Is it because you have to be with someone
lower than you to make you feel important?
I think so.
I know so.
I know you're better than that.
So act like it.

I don't understand you.
You pretend to be so kind,
but in the end you're just another worthless,
backstabbing whore.
You try to pretend you're so well-liked,
well I don't like you at all.
I don't pretend to hold any feelings for you
besides hatred and disgust.
You pretend that you're so pretty,
that everyone wants you.
Even if I did I would never admit.
It's so hard to resist crushing your dreams.
It's so hard to resist smashing your face.
It's so hard to resist ripping your soul from that
empty vessel.
You promised me that you would never lie,
that you could never lie to me,
but you did so anyway.
I was expecting you to.
Why must you be so hateful?
Why must you make yourself the hated one?
I think you do it just for attention,
because the fact is
that you never will achieve.
Instead you paint this pretty portrait,
that only you conceive,
that only you can see,
that only you deceive.
You manipulate the chances,
to make the cards fall in the right places,
but don't you see, my dear,
that it won't work on me?