Get Out Of Here

Youíre no damn good, get up, get out of here,
Donít wanna see your face round here no more,
Youíre double bad news, shallow, insincere,
You talk high, yet you live without the law.

Youíve brought me nothing, only misery,
And infamy, the worst kind of renown,
How can you say you love me tenderly
When all youíve ever done is bring me down?

I shouldíve hearkened what my mother said,
She saw through you, your goody-good disguise,
But weíre all over now, my tears are shed,
Iím no more crying for your lying eyes.

My skies will soon be blue again and clear,
The frost you brought me soon begin to thaw,
Youíre no damn good, get up, get out of here,
Donít wanna see your face round here no more.

Back To Poetry Index