| Do you remember how you used to tease me?
Throw pens and pencils at my head, and throw my bag down the stairs. |
| You used to mock my music tastes,
Laugh at the way I did my tie And my always too shiny shoes. |
| But I used to view you with pity
at your divorced, arguing parents And your drug addict of a brother. |
| I used to view you with pity
Looking at your sad, pale eyes and trembling shoulders. |
| When you started to cry
I wanted to cry beside you tell you it will get better And watch your fear slip away Down the drain like dirty dishwater |
| But you turned away
And concerted on throwing More pens and pencils. |