Remember the first night your text read,
‘It’s late, you should go to sleep.’
Who do you think you are, boy?
Pretty face, good lips don’t give you the right to take the wheel.
Don’t ask if I ate or not,
don’t ask who he is,
Don’t beg me to tell you about my daydreams,
‘Cause you don’t deserve to know unless you can handle the poison of my nightmares.
Because you’ll run the second you see me break down at 3 A.M.
You’ll scream for help when I turn the tables on you,
You’ll make me cut and bleed and smear my mascara.
And what’s the cherry on top?
You do it all in the name of love.
If it’s all just good fun to you,
But babe, do me a favour and play by the rules.
Atleast one of us has to.