• Love and hate.

  You love to make us hate you,

  But you hate to have us love you.

  Make up you're mind.

   

  I'm in pain all the time,

  Time after time,

  Swing after swing.

  The bruses just seem to show a bit,

  A bit from the hit and a bit from the pain.

   

  I'm sorry,

  I'm sorry my dear don't you worrie I'll never do it again.

  I'm sorry,

  I'm sorry.

  But we all know its only going to end the same.

   

  I'm so tired of this game.

  Tired of all the pain,

  I we over you a long time ago,

  Or at lieast I thought so.

   

  But no more will I make you seem stronger,

  While I seem weaker.

   

  It's mind over matter,

  And what matters is  were done with you.

   

  No more I don't degrees,

  Imma make sure you're a mess.

   

  A mess like my mind is only one of a kind.

  But after a while it seems normal,

  What do you expect after playing the game,

  The game thats filled with so much pain.

  Done with your pain,

  Done with your abuse.

• No Comments

Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.

Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!