He was born on an average day,
|
Looked like any other baby
|
Neighbors said ¡°what a lovely boy
|
you have," yeah
|
Through the years he could¡¯ve been
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Most anybody's kid,
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Never did anything to show
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The madman living in his soul
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Never know he was going crazy
|
A little bit at a time.
|
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Hate, don¡¯t you love it?
|
The world can¡¯t seem to get enough of it
|
Hate, don¡¯t you want it?
|
You love the way you feel when you¡¯re on it
|
Hate, hate.
|
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All through his high school days
|
He kept himself hid away
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Never let anybody close
|
He was just the quiet one
|
Slowly coming undone
|
Who knew there was something missing from his soul?
|
Like a spider building up a web
|
A little bit at a time
|
|
Hate, don¡¯t you love it?
|
The world can¡¯t seem to get enough of it
|
Hate, don¡¯t you want it?
|
You love the way you feel when you¡¯re on it
|
Hate, hate.
|
|
Last night on the evening news,
|
I heard his name and it turned my head
|
Something 'bout a local boy
|
And fifteen people dead
|
He thought he was a guardian angel
|
Gonna put this world at peace
|
He was talking 'bout happiness
|
Like it was some kind of disease
|
|
He died on an average day
|
At the state penitentiary
|
They laid him in his grave
|
The camera¡¯s rolled and the people waved
|
|
Hate, don¡¯t you love it?
|
The world can¡¯t seem to get enough of it
|
Hate, don¡¯t you want it?
|
You love the way you feel when you¡¯re on it
|
Hate, don¡¯t you love it?
|
The world can¡¯t seem to get enough of it
|
Hate, don¡¯t you want it?
|
You love the way you feel when you¡¯re on it
|
Hate
|
I can¡¯t get enough, don¡¯t you love it?
|
Hate!
|
|
-----------------
|
Hate
|
| Lita Ford |
