by Nick Gisburne
I write to say you’re getting on my nerves
The more I think of you, the more I hate
Your twisted mind will get what it deserves
And even if you’re sorry, it’s too late
The lies will crash and burn and bring you down
Remember what you are, a waste of space
Perhaps you think you’re funny? You’re a clown
But all the world is laughing in your face
You need to know the simple truth at last
So let me be the one to tell you first
The time when I believed in you has passed
May all your days be wretched, short, and cursed
The letter, sealed, is waiting on the shelf
Tomorrow I will post it, to myself
