Local Joke

Those kinda of things never bother me 'Cause I'm the local joke Her sun burnt eyes roll She calls me 'the broken spoke' Never been late to fuck with fate And see her phrases choke Part of me wants to watch and laugh As they go up in smoke Constantly crossing paths With all the empty traits You'd better leave things just unsaid Then left to contemplate All my words trip as they leave my lips I've come to set things straight She needs an excuse to end things And become the things you hate