Tempt me to strike at you,

point your finger at me.

The sad thing is you forget,

how spiteful I can be.

Make your hateful wishes,

say about me what you will.

Because in the end I know I'll win,

and my thoughts of you need not to be ill.

Tell others of my faults,

and act as though you have no flaws.

I'll be the one to triumph,

and once again you can fall.

Tell me not the truth,

speak as though I don't see.

Then maybe you will notice,

I'm not who I may seem.

Say our friendship ended well,

convice yourself if you must.

But you and I both know,

it was eachother we couldn't trust.

We make one mistake,

now we begin to see what's real.

That you didn't know I pointed out my mistakes,

I just didn't need an audience to feel.