I hate writing English compositions.

I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive my car.

I hate it when you stare at me.

I hate your big, stupid combat boots and the way you read my mind.

I hate you enough to make me sick; It even makes me rhyme.

I hate this. I hate that you are always right.

I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh, and I hate it when you make me cry.

I hate it when you're not around and you don't call me.

But mainly

I hate it. I don't hate your way.

Not at all, not at all, not at all.