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 it -- 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