Well maybe now i should just say goodbye
you used to be my friend
but i never felt i really was yours
so maybe this is the end.
i’m different from you, all of you
each other we’ve never understood
i hope that if i do tell you goodbye
that it won’t be for good.
whenever i’m mad it hurts me so bad
and you don’t even care
i don’t know why, i just want to cry
and someday i won’t be there.
the streaks on my arm they’ve done me no harm
they’re only made of pen
but once they are blood that turns brown like mud
they’ll be there again and again.
if i’m mad at you i’ll hurt myself too
but that doesn’t really matter
although when i hurt i feel like dirt
and my spirit’s bruised and battered.
i do not know why it has to be so
i really wish it did not
but the way this has been going
it is basically shot.
you don’t need me and we don’t need we
and that’s how i think i know why
these words are the ones i have to speak-
i love you, but goodbye.