The Old Stuff

Pull me in,

Then push me away.

Like a little swing,

You just want to play.

It�s not a game to me;

It�s a fight.

A fight for your love.

Stop flying me like a kite.

I told you a million times how I feel,

But won�t you tell me the same?

Anything at all?

Even if you hate me, you�re not to blame.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Dec 2001

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