I'm into everything you are,
And everything you hate makes me consummate.
I'm into your maternal martial arts,
Simplistic affirmation, you rusticate.
Take a felt tipped marker and connect all the dots,
Step back and gander upon the face of the person you once were.
And everyday you'll cry and self consciously ask "Why?"
I'll give you no confirmation cause you're no friend of mine.
You'll get no benediction from me this time,
I'll lure you home and masturbate and waste all your time.
I'll send you home aroused, not fed, disappointed.
I'm malicious, tainted, seductive, and unimpeccable in bed.
I have a gothic friend who's really into art,
I told her to paint me a picture of her defunct broken heart.
I keep a copy on my pillow, I keep a copy on the fridge,
It burns a hole into my eyes and my hair starts to singe.
Can I make you my theater puppet?
Watch your strings pluck and fray,
Sitting back and waiting for our fateful tragic day.
I'm an antist to your bullshit,
And your unassuming regionalism.
All the suffering you put me through,
Fuels my liberal masochism.