You shouldn't wait,
you couldn't walk,
it wasn't written out in chalk.
It wasn't fate,
it's not divine,
the lacerations in your spine.
But that's no excuse.
I could have been so much better for you.
You should take it out on me,
but you won't take it out on me.
You should hate the water,
you should hate the world.
You need to cut me out,
because I'll only let you down,
and you deserve attention;
I can't give you that.
It shouldn't be that every week,
I'm thinking promises I can't keep.
Well that's not fair,
that's not right,
‘cause you're not sleeping much at night.
But I'm no good use.
I should have been so much better for you.
And all I've done in half a year
is send one letter out of here,
on your birthday (September’s end),
and I haven't sent again,
Because it's no use,
because I can't seem to stitch you.
You should take it out on me,
but you won't take it out on me.
You should hate the water,
you should hate the world.
You need to cut me out,
because I'll only let you down,
and you deserve attention;
I can't give you that,
Because I'm no good use.
I should have been so much better for you.
