Hate Yourself
The Sunday Drivers
My lovely ways have become so nasty
The things that you loved, those things once took your fancy
Have you ever, in your mess, found a chance to hate yourself?
There is not a grain of truth in anything you've been doing
How you dare to say: "I'm alright, I'm in my isle, I don't need you"
Listen to my voice, I know is not your choice, I'm the same who
Listened to your voice, and know, was not my choice. How I needed you.
We never thought we could ever get old
Get old or lost or to find new roads
Have you ever, in your mess, found a chance to hate yourself?
There is not a grain of truth in anything you've been doing
How you dare to say: "I'm alright, I'm in my isle, I don't need you"
Listen to my voice, I know is not your choice, I'm the same who
Listened to your voice, when it was not my choice. How I needed you.
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