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Sitting On The Bench
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July - December 2004 I knew when it started it was too good to be true.
You were so attentive and flattering,
Was it just a game to you?
Hell, you think you're such a player.
Well indeed, you've got game - but not one that will get you where you wanna be in life.
Look where you are now.
You played with my hair,
You played with my trust,
You played with my heart and you played with my lust.
My passions, my fears,
My dreams and my life.
You had them all in your hands and now they're fucking crushed.
I'm just sitting on the bench,
Like I knew I would be.
Hovering inbetween a 'no' and a 'maybe'.
I'm not your toy and I'm not playing your game,
The sad thing is, we're just the same.
I hate you for pissing me about,
For taking everything I knew and turning it around,
But I've done it to you, too.
No. I'm not innocent in this.
Just remember that when I next give you a kiss.
But just for now, I'll just sit on this God damn bench.
Because, afterall,
I'm just a substitute, aren't I?
