Spite

Now that the anger evaporated and the jaded part has died
I think of you, I think of her, and I think of all you've done to me.
No longer co-dependent and no longer at your feet,
The pedestal you've lived on turned to butter and you fell
To the mud covered ground, and now you reek of broken dreams
And it seems you're trying to change, trying to beg for a chance
But the ship has sailed and I have walked away,
Never will I let you control my destiny.
I'm over you, you child, without you I'm much better,
And although we're talking, we don't talk about her...
I still think of you, now that it's all better,
But the warm feeling that was there, has long since left my bones...
And although we're fine, and there is no more anger,
Babe, I hope you think of me each time you bed her.