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.