It's not a question of liking you anymore.
I'm way beyond the borders of liking...

In her pretty boy-begging face
I bid her goodnight...

Is it now that I die?
With these things in my head...

No matter how much I hate,
No matter how much I despise them...

Why won't she fold?
Am I that dis-likable...

I'm alive but feel dead
I'm buried six feet under a barbecue party...

In silence
I can't meet her eyes...