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 youÂ’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 youÂ’re not around,
and the fact that you didnÂ’t call.
But mostly I hate the way I donÂ’t hate you,
not even closeÂ…
not even a little bitÂ…
not even at all.