Haters Gonna Hate

I can see myself with him,
But he's slipping through my fingers.
They were never good with anything,
Except lingering on triggers,

So to my head I'll put a gun,
With his name on the bullet.
And then everyone will know,
He was the last thing going through it.

I just want him to want me,
But it killed me to confess this:
He has me choking on his words,
And it leaves me nearly breathless.

Every moment of the season,
Is spent only dreaming.
Of you, of me, of us,
And where all of this is leading.

Excuse me if this is off,
I dont want you to feel rushed.
But I daydream of the moment,
We will finally have touched.