People think I'm softer somehow.
That I'm not like I used to be.
They say I write kinder things now.
But they only believe what they want to see.

I'm not any less pissed off today,
than I was five years ago.
You never listened to what I had to say.
So how would any of you know?

Yeah, I've done a love poem or two.
And I've written of a softer sorrow.
But that doesn't mean that I like you.
Or that I won't come against you tomorrow.

I don't think you can comprehend,
the rage that rests inside my soul.
And it's a story that will never end.
This mix of emotion that keeps me whole.

So don't forget who I am.
And all that I could happen to be.
Remember that I don't give a damn,
if you aren't comfortable with me.

Yes, I may ease up once or twice.
But don't let it settle your fear.
It doesn't mean I've gone all nice.
I'm still the same, I'm still here.