What a mess you’ve made…
with your hazy hate…
wish I had Kleenex to give; some
tissues for your issues now.
What a dance you’ve done…
with the web you’ve spun…
wish you all the best and shit, for
karma’s here to kiss you now.
I feel truth written in the
texture of your skin…
and in your eyes, I view all
the unspoken sin with all your
silly croc tears. You’re such a
silly crock, my dear, with all your
silly crock tears, drama for
years and years and years and years.
Poutin’ and shoutin’ ’bout damage galore, yet
at this point, to me, it’s all such a bore. Your
crying I can’t savor, so if you
think I’ll bite –