It's one a.m. you haven't called It must be four wherever you are And the photo booth strip, and the letter you wrote They feel like nothing I could hold
Nothing bad, nothing free There's nothing left For me to feel
It's like goin' to bed at a quarter to three Finally tired, finally empoty
Should I be up to play the game Back and forth get back at me And my confidence fell and I feel so mad Tell me whose side are you on?
It's like goin' to peices could fix everything At this point I'm really me
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