I remember way back when I wanted you to be mine,
and now that I kinda had you I wonder was it all a waste of time?
And did it make sense jumping into something knowing that I'd get hurt.
Well I don't know but my boss thinks not it makes me less productive at work.
And all my friends told me to look out, 'cause you were treating me like shit.
But I swallowed my pride, and bit my tongue and tried to just deal with it.
And I blame the whatevership's termination on why things are never fine.
I dreaded this moment from the day that we met, we have to say goodbye.
Now all I do is pine and smoke with all my friends.
I regret not moving on even though I told you I did.
Fuck, shit, damn it, how many times do I have to call you now just because you called me first?
We're nothing together but a bunch of obligations that just make me feel worse.
So why was I the last to know when you ride some other guy?
And why should I have even cared that night you said you cried?
Well my stomach threw up my daily nutrition and your anti-morals robbed me blind.
I loved you and you blew it and you broke your own heart.
So eat this last goodbye.
And all that time we wasted on each other did it mean so little that you could find another
to replace me, whatever I mean, my heart as well. When can I get over this/stop hating myself?
As the days go by I'll find someone better to keep me warm in the cold winter weather.
You had to slit my throat, fist the wound, and bleed my carcass dry
So piss off. This is the last goodbye.