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 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.

I'm tired, boss. Tired of being on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. I'm tired of never having me a buddy to be with... to tell me where we's going to, coming from, or why. Mostly, I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world... every day. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head...all the time.