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Well this one actually Isn't something I've had first hand problems with, if you go around some words I have but.
I wrote this about a guy who is having troubles with a lover. It so happens that this lover is having relationships with many other men. This of course kills this guy inside.
Backseat Slaughter (emo, no?)

You've got too many lovers,
You've got too many friends.
But tell me who do you turn to,
When the party ends?

You've got too many boyfriends,
But you've got too little heart.
You've got them hid in the closet,
You think you're playing it pretty smart.

I love you pretend
that I don't know 'bout them
the truth is, baby,
you can call this an intervention.

~chorus~
I'm not pointing my finger,
just pointing out it's your fault.
That, as I march to the slaughter,
You're rubbing my sore's with your salt.

Dammit get your a** back here!
Get out of the backseat while I'm hanging,
This rope at my throat, it's starting to sear,
and you think this is a promicuious game.

well it's not, guess what,
I've devoted my soul to you,.
While you drink teh devils water, and swallow his heart,
how soon will he realise we're not through?

~chorus~
I'm not pointing my finger,
just pointing out it's your fault.
That, as I march to the slaughter,
You're rubbing my sore's with your salt.

Why do you think It's fair,
that it's one guy to the next?
after there five minutes, they are gone,
into nothing, they are powerplexed!


~chorus~
I'm not pointing my finger,
just pointing out it's your fault.
That, as I march to the slaughter,
You're rubbing my sore's with your salt.

I'm not pointing my finger,
just pointing out it's your fault.