I worry about you each time that you go.
I want to be with you but you always say no.
I'm not what you need, but I'm what you like to use.
But thats alright, I quite like the abuse.
I'm glad that you hurt me, I'm glad you make me cry.
At least this way I know how you feel and why.
I'm just a play toy, someone to use and then leave.
It was always like this, which makes it easy not to believe.
Its a simple game of lust, and I always let you win.
I knew I'd let you go to far before we even decided to begin.
With just one kiss I was whisked away into fantasy.
Sometimes I wish I could bring that feeling back with me to reality.
But instead I just let you leave, and it's always the same.
I lay alone, promising myself that next time things will change.
But when you return I quickly fall victim to your passionate kiss.
I just hold on tight to your body and let you hurt me like this.
And still, I worry about you each time that you go.
I guess it's because I love you...
But I'll never let you know.
