..sorry - this one's a story... -- You don’t feel the love I’m feeling. You killed the brakes that I was using. You followed directions to the gas station, as I thought we were going to your house. If you want to stop for food, then don’t ride with me, don’t ride with me, don’t ride with me! You want to speed in a little toy car, get pulled over by the cop and say you love him, as strangers are oblivious to your personality. You want to dance with the foreign, cardboard male, listen to it sing and watch it fall for you, as it won’t stand by itself. You want to love a prince that will be king of your mind, but his mind will be ruled by the girl next door, as this is common for the typical, bored, make-up bottle. I’m going to pull over and leave you on the street for the summer, as I know you won’t be alone. Camp out in the woods, prince charming will find you and have a healthy supply of vitamins. I’m going to trip and fall on purpose and let you watch, freaking out for it wasn’t on queue. Drop dead with me and I’ll come back, but you decide to stand still and stare. I’ll get up and you’ll try to comfort me, but I will shake my head and blame you for drinking the Pepto-Bismol. I’m going to attempt a speech to win the election to rule over your mind, but my last few dinners were too big. Now I trip and fall down the stairs. Thank goodness my fat saved me.