I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumm combat boots and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick and 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 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.