Feel my hate around your lifeline.
Feed my hate with your indifference.
What else do you want from me?
What else do you expect?
You ripped my heart from me,
Leaving me nothing but cold--and hate.
Now you talk of Michelangelo,
So insincere, so fake, so indifferent.
I live in my Wasteland, Mr. Eliot,
Walking to and fro--and hating it.
Now do you feel my hate?
No, because of the cold.
Now do you feed my hate?
Yes, because of my own indifference.