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 it,
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.