This is the part that I buried.
This is the part that died.
This is the part that brings out my
bitterness and anger

it's the part that got stomped on,
the part that used to want flowers
and romance,
and love professed on bended knee

Oh, I've had imitations.
I've had simulated affection,
whose ulterior motives were hiding
beneath bedsheets;
sweet nothings that turned out to be
just that,
and it all left me rather empty--
a crackling, black hole where
my heart had been

so I covered it up.
recycled the pain into anger,
at least realizing it's much easier
to remain on guard
and never let your defenses down;
quickly learning that the other side of the coin
isn't always shinier
and there's no truth whatsoever
behind any promises,
and that anger is the most comfortable
and reliable emotion I've ever known--
something I could always sink my teeth into,
something that would never let me down

it keeps the heart pumping
and the blood flowing;
the barbed-wire fence eternally erect...
and it's practically impossible
to be disappointed or feel any pain
under its influence

so I think you'll understand when I say
that I'm not the most pleasant person
to be around,
and excuse me if my attitude
rubs you the wrong way,
because there's only one direction I'm headed,
and that road sure as hell isn't paved
with lollipops