A Storybook Ending - Don't Rob Me Of This Hate

Everytime you lay your eyes on me

I might ask you to whisper softly what you meant when you said

I'm not right and love is dead



November rains more than this month

Lasting through much longer than your touch



So ask yourself why look so desperate on any given day

Walk beside me through windows painted glass

Don't expect me to go through this decay



Make a liar out of me and work your magic

I can't ask the same of you

For I'll discover your insides rot as will mine doing what you do



Oh these days they get so hard, so hard to follow through

Any one of those days, I'll see that knife go through



Everytim that I see you there I might ask you just to not stare

What you meant when you said that I'm not right and love is dead