Im Not A Fake Friend

Static simmers, crisp yet clear
Proclaiming your plans for the afternoon
I sat there with my pen in my hand stabbing the page
While you had been phoned by the con-artist opposite me

And that con had been using people and moved onto you
That con didn't care like I did
But hey, that con shared your addiction
So that made a better choice

I want to stab you, with that pen still in my hand
And yet last night I cried over you
Do yourself good I tell myself
Dont trust anyone
Dont care about anyone
Too many dead-heads in this place to trust

And yet I cannot let go
Youve scarred me
I want to bleed and heal
Not to be scarred

By the way, the con agrees with you
Because he hasnt had an original thought in years
By the way, I love you, friend
Because no matter what you did
I couldnt hate you
I couldnt let go