Ice is Cold

If there be a day that I fly,
please let me repay this lie.
I know it's probably too late,
but me and you, on this date,
is too important to forget,
too important to forget how we met.

But now you're all alone,
and all you do is moan,
moan in painless remorse
that you spent all your force
on someone like me,
but I think you're just a cry baby.

Remember when we here happy?
When everything we said at 2AM was sappy?
Remember all the dinners I made for you?
All the money I spent to pull you through?
Now, now you're in denial.
I think you'll be there a while.

Death is usually a good thing,
good like angel's wings.
However, I hope your death is cruel,
cruel like drowning in fossil fuels.
Maybe that's not bad enough,
you don't tell people you like it rough.

It never occurred to me
that it's all your fault I fleed.
It is my fault that I gave you my heart,
and your fault that you tore it apart.
You stole my blood and froze it cold,
all while my face fell and eyes turned old.

But the damage is done,
you're still on the run
from me, but I don't know why.
I was the one that cried
in the end,
"friend."

Roses are red, violets are blue,
ice is cold, and so are you.
The night is solid black,
I don't want you back;
you can walk down the road
and relish everything I told
you, everything you heard me say,
and when dawn breaks on the next day,
you'll be in the ditch,
scratching that itch,
and I'll be on the mountain top
licking a lolly pop.