She liked sweatpants, just like her mother did
She wore them her whole life
She told him how much she hated when people tried taking them
They always tried stealing them

He stained the sweatpants though
Her favorite sweatpants
The one she waited months for to get
She tried not to think much of it

Then he stole her sweatpants
She didn't get why
She made it so clear of how much she disliked when people did that
But he did it anyways

Why couldn't he ask?
It was just a simple question
It was what she held on to the most
He took it away

She misses those sweatpants
She misses how it felt when she did have them
Her favorite sweatpants she wore her whole life was gone forever
And there was nothing she could do to get it back

Tic-tac-toe
three in a row,
he swings hard,
alarm bells go,
a knife and knife
a circular ring
who's got the guts
to come clean?

Slurry of blows,
slurry of speech,
maybe there's more
to being a leech,
a man made of pride
a man made of sorrow
what's a man to do
when he can no longer borrow?

If I give just to receive,
Is my gift worthless?
If I steal only to give,
Are my actions faithless?