Fuck You Ms Rochelle

He was preaching at the bus stop, he was drunk
Drunk on mouthwash, talkin' shit
He asked for a cigarette, I gave him a mint
A lady asked, “Will the six be soon?”
He asked her if she'd like to take a trip to the moon
His sarcasm reeked of loneliness

And I know I hated him
Through the snow I could see a reflection
Fragile is the hell we make for ourselves
When we acknowledge that the spotlight's on

He was getting more obnoxious and he wouldn't quit
Even though our faces read “You’re full of shit”
And then she split for another stop
He asked for a smoke again
And he was pissed I said “no”
He made a fist, so I pulled out my dick
“Try smoking this"

So familiar it was killing me
So full of shit at only 15
Fragile is the hell we make for ourselves
When we acknowledge that the spotlight's on

He was me in high school
A stereo-type, a well-trained tool
But since then I’ve learned that all clowns aren't fools

But if the me of then could see me now
I’m sure he wouldn't listen up anyhow
He'd say, "I knew you when you used to matter"
But I’ve known him since he wasn't so easily flattered