Just because you were kind to me, that doesn’t give you any leverage.
It doesn’t make up for the fact that you misunderstood my intentions.
Or for the fact that you had high hopes and expectations.
Especially after me warning you otherwise.
I’m not going to lay with dogs when I am clearly looking for a wolf.
I’ve got so much to give, and I’ll be damned if you’re the one it’s wasted on.
So don’t come knocking on my door, your wanted poster doesn’t mean shit.
I’ve got plenty more of you to take down off your pedestals.
The fact that you think your owed something makes me sick.
So go run to your friends, they’ll lie to you and make you feel like a man again.
Have them cast stones at me, curse my name, something is bound to nurse you back to sleep eventually.
Just don’t come running back like the rest,
or you’ll end up living in a hell in which you couldn’t fathom existing.
And by then, your apologies won’t mean a fucking thing.