Three steps from leaving my inconsistencies 
Buried in the dump that folds in the backseat 
Rearview mirror facing an image resembling me  [bad word] it I’ll say thanks, but you won’t see me again 
It’s been a couple of weeks since I heard from you last 
You were wrong, but it’s a matter of your childish acts 
No guilt will outweigh me more than I was raised to be 
Hate me, I’ll show you more than you expect to see 
Hate me, I’m dying to take two steps from leaving a [bad word] call 
Of impulsive thoughts to empower you more 
Your ignorance justifies a part of that I despise 
I’m not giving in and feeding you lies 
Even though you’d drink them despite how dry 
Don’t question me and expect defeat 
I’ll show you more than you expect to see 
I got your letter from another form you take 
“Ship shape ungrateful and fix the life you waste 
You’re not important; You’re dormant in a life without a place 
You fell into my hands and became my own mistake” 
I’m the product of your inconsistencies 
Buried in the dump of [bad word] Derby street 
Rearview mirror facing a step from losing me  [bad word] it I’ll say thanks, I’m better off instead