And the talking leads to touching and the touching leads to sex. And then there's no mystery left.

"I'm not a poet, I'm just fcuked up in the head.
This isn't a song about love, it's about wanting you dead"

If three words could heal you,
I'd speak only two.

I hope the worst isn't over. And I hope I never get sober and I hope when you think of me, years down the road, you can't think of one good thing to say. And I hope that if I found the strength to walk out, you'd stay te hell out of my way.

Sometimes I think I ought to call. Every couple of nights or so, you know. You pop into my dreams... I just can't get rid of you like you got rid of me.

If you're lonely when you're alone,
You are in bad company

I wanna live in a city with no friends or family
I'm gonna look out the window of my color TV
I wanna remember to remember to forget you forgot me.

I thought I heard a plane crashing, but now I think it was your passion snapping

I take it slow because I have time, back to the days when you were mine. Back to this faulty relationship, back to the days when we both fit.

Loving things like you has left me bruised, black and blue. Loving things like you has made me so confused. And I can't figure out what I've been waiting on. God, I can't be living for things I know are wrong.