you sit in your room and write songs about me
long about what we couldn’t keep
and everything we used to think
somethings sweet and somethings mean
but you’re the one who stopped talking to me
even though i was on the brink of leaving
everything you say is wrong
all those twisted up emotions in your song
or at least it’s not what you told me
telling the world your feelings is still hiding
it makes me sick it makes me weak
the way you think you know everything
but i still can’t help daydreaming
that one day you will call up me
and sing all the words i used to believe