Well, we used to sit and talk, parking lots,
Well, we used to try not to talk too much,
At then your favourite song would start,
You swore we'd never break apart,
And you told me it was forever, and that we'd always be together,
Then your father said, "Give up music, son, or you'll be dead."

I broke up all my radios,
I turned off all my cable shows,
Burned up all my stereos,
I've had enough.

I hate your song on the station when she's gone...and she's gone,
I hate your song on the station when she's gone...and she's gone.

Couldn't give it up that quick; busting things up didn't do the trick,
I was playing some dive club before you knew it,
And, above all, I still was fighting with your dad,
I could have kissed him on the lips with my mouth or with my fist.

'Cause I was busting up my radios,
Turning off all my cable shows,
Burning up all my stereos,
I knew I had enough.

I hate your song on the station when she's gone...and she's gone,
I hate your song on the station when she's gone...and she's gone.

I hate your song on the station when she's gone...and she's gone,
I hate your song on the station when she's gone...and she's gone,
I hate your song on the station when she's gone...and she's gone,
I hate your song on the station when she's gone...and she's gone.