A Better Person
You make me a better person,
you make me hurt worse and worse and
so I'm nicer to others because you're so mean to me
I don't know why that makes sense or why that should be
I guess it's 'cause I care about them as much as you don't care about me
I guess it's 'cause I wouldn't hurt them as much as you hurt me
so take my heart, break it apart and I'll just write more poetry
Maybe I should start a hurting booth, then I'll make some money
people can stand in line to throw darts at my dead body
Why can't you be the one person in the world who has a heart?
Why do you have to take more pieces off of mine?
Why do you have to leave me dead and hurting?
Why do have to leave me feeling worthless?
I guess you're just trying to make me a better person!
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