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 that 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 the way 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.