You Play Guitar


You play guitar
You play it well
Well you can kiss my ass
You can go to hell
Go to hell

I used to love you
Way back when
Back before you left
And you ain't never coming home
Again

   I hope you keep a-hold of that special little part
   That we created together there before we split apart

You were all
That I ever was
A fading memory now
Like a morning-after buzz
A Budweiser breakfast
Just to dull the pain
Another bout of nausea
Now it's all coming up, it's coming up
Again

   I hope you keep a-hold of that special little part
   That we created together there before we split apart

Now I'll admit
That I might have been wrong
For all those terrible times 
When we just couldn't seem to get along
And I'll 'fess up
That I wasn't so long
But I thought they said the length
Doesn't matter

   I hope you keep a-hold of that special little part
   That you so gently ripped from my fucking bleeding heart

You play guitar
You play it well
©Mike Runion, 2002
7/1/02