don't make me carry on

when i am skipping along and there you are, grabbing my hand and calling me princess and asking me where i'm going, and would i care to join you? and of course i politely refuse. when i am taking out the garbage and i catch you waddling down the street with your pants down, being funny for you friends, you holding them around you knees. upon seeing my face you blush and hastily pull them back on.

"hi, sarah!"
"...hi, joe..."

mmm...how dearly i want to kiss you.

but you don't like me, and i don't really like you. you make me smile, but you don't give a damn about the majority of things i care about. besides, you've got a million other girls who are on a much higher status than me to worry about.