I hate the couple upstairs.
Their noises and whispers don't stop until dawn.
I hate their perfect affair
and the voices of pleasure that come through my wall.
There is taste
for everything
and for everyone,
and for everyone but me,
I hate the guy of my dreams
with his marvelous wonderful beautiful chest.
I hate his pimpleless skin
cause he lives in my head for my heart's so crowded.
There is taste for everything and for everyone,
and for everyone but me.
Life is waste of sympathy and of weeks by the phone,
but to live it alone is not for me.
I hate fried onion rings
and I cry if I see someone smashing meat balls.
My fate is to live hating
but I'd die just to be really loved and love you all.