take me somewhere far away
say all the things that will make it okay..
in my head. make my head stop. stop the spinning.
i'm not winning.
this is not where i was meant to be;
this place where you all laugh and make a joke of me.

you call me all the names you can.
giving me my claim to fame; just because you can.
you know that it's all bullshit; it's part of your plan.
i know that it's all bullshit too; it's about time for me
to take a fucking stand.

my friends, my enemies; how did they become
one in the same?
my moods, i get so confused; are you trying to play
some sort of game?
i've tried, i've cried; but in the long run i can withstand
you're little rollercoaster ride.
to my face, you lie; because you're all fucking cowards 
on the inside.

trying to throw me out, trying to get me lost.
i wonder if this kind of thing really gets you off?
ruining my life when i least thought you'd strike.
i hate you. i hate your power.
power to people who can't even brush their teeth
or remember to take a fucking shower.
my eyes have hardened, as has my heart.
i will feel no remorse when i rip you apart.

two faced, out of place, you all vanished from my 
life without a trace.
it's hard to imagine us as friends before all of the hate.
the late night phone calls, you said you were in for the 
long haul.
where did it go? i have nothing to show.
i'm a bitch and a whore; that seems to be all you want to 
know.
fuck you, just forget me.
if i'm so fucking horrible, just fucking FORGET ME.
stop talking, stop lying, stop hiding the god damned 
fucking truth.
stop with your rumours, and your faces, your stares, and 
false embraces.
i just want to erase this. i want more to erase you.
but all you can fucking do is stick to me like fucking
glue.

but how can you forget? all the good times, all the bad 
situations,
how we always pulled through.
all the problems; i never thought they were you,
but i guess you thought they were me.
i guess i failed to see.
i failed to be the best i could be?
i don't think so,
but one day i'll tell you exactly where to go.

i never see you, i haven't done anything new.
it's been two fucking years, and you STILL like to talk 
about me.
i should publish a book, or charge a fucking fee
i'd get rich pretty quick, wouldn't you agree?
you all make me fucking sick.
sick to my stomache. but i love it.
i'm a LEGEND. and who the FUCK are you?
just another arthur dirtbag, in a couple more years
you'll graduate to a fucking arthur welfare hag.
with your welfare bags, in your welfare shack.
even No Hope will refuse to help out you're filthy
good-for-nothing fat ass.

is it because i have it and you don't?
or is it because i don't have to try to be good,
and you're just too stoned?
it's a tragedy that i let you make me feel like shit.
maybe i'm alone for now, but i'll be back
i refuse to accept this.

love michelle.