I don’t believe in that

It wasn’t love - more of a crush

Whatever it was, I don’t believe in it.

I wanted to hold your hand and I was too blind to see - fogged by misconception

I was too blind to see I was just a mistress in black while your love was away.

I feel cheap and used, like an old car stereo

Play me back and you might get another song - one that you won’t like anymore.

I’ll be over-used and abused. Maybe forgetfulness is a virtue. ***** You.

I won’t be played anymore so just put me back in my case, and store me in boxes down in your parents basement.