Screeching Weasel

Leather Jacket

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i wanna tell you
what's on my mind
and i wanna bill you
for wasted time
and wasted cigarettes that
quenched your fix
and wasted spit i left there
upon your lips
i'm getting used to
the fact you left
and i'm getting used to
the loneliness
but even if you knew that
you wouldn't care
and now i sit and talk to
an empty chair
and bang my head against the wall and think up
ways i should've told you to fuck off
but i won't lose a bit of sleep
'cause i know that you're really just a creep
and i've got something
that i'm gonna keep forever
and ever and ever your leather jacket

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