The thing you do to a discharged cell,
Or to the socks that have too much of a smell,
What is it? Doesn’t it ring a bell?
Because You adhere to that policy so very well…
The thing you do to a flower that’s dead,
So also to a pencil that’s out of lead,
The same unfortunate fate of a broken wooden bed,
A habit of yours that lies imbibed in your head…
The death call for a tire with no air,
The plight of a writer who has lost his flare,
The epitaph of a man about whom nobody cares,
The cold obsoleteness of all your stares…
The gills of a fish outside of water,
The remains of a pig after its meaty slaughter,
The detriment of someone devoid of fun and laughter,
You certainly know about all this better…
A Kingless queen in a match of chess,
A game of chance without a single guess,
A heart beating oh so loveless,
Their method of disposal is at your prowess…
Use and Throw, Use and Throw,
That’s the way you always go,
Use and Throw, Use and Throw,
That’s all the love and affection to me you did show…
For all the compassion, all the regret,
I’m an expendable? Do I know you? Have we ever really MET?
It’s just made me even more sad and upset…
After trying to make your everyday new,
I’m wound up being Use and Throw to you,
I’m use and Throw, insipid, inarticulate,
A used tissue can’t undo its sealed fate….
But if I were any of these above things,
Of which my lonely aching heart sings,
A battery could be recharged duly,
The smell of socks would get the heavy laundry,
A flower would find soil to unwither and bloom,
A pencil refilled with lead to avoid its impending doom…
All of these things I know I can do,
But I also know I can never ever have you,
Because all YOU did, was use, then you Threw…
After my usefulness I meant absolutely nothing to You…
Use and Throw, Use and Throw,
As tears and blood into my discarded tissue does flow…
I was nothing to you, I have nowhere to go…
After all to you I was just.. USE AND THROW….!
