 You’re running rampant through me, infecting everything.
My eyes are red, and I’m scared to death.
You don’t know what you’re doing.
This is my call to arms, and I have waited far too long.
Maybe I’ll never quit, maybe you never meant a single thing you said.
Well, I’ve grown so sick of this.
Confusion fills my head, and I’m dripping with regret.
Would you feel better if you never knew just how I felt?
Does he shake you like I shook you?
And how much do his words weigh?
Is he underneath your fingertips where I used to lay?
Do his lips taste like forever, as you said mind did?
We were young, that’s how it goes.
My eyes are filled with tears, my hands are to my head.
I know you’re happy now, in someone else’s bed.
My patience wearing thin, and I’ve grown so sick of all this.
All I want is to be over you.
I just need to know so tell me.
And when I dream you every night (that’s how it goes), you break my heart but it’s alright (that’s how it goes).
Inebriated by your sight (that’s how it goes).
Now this is fight of my life (this is the fight of my life).
All we had is dead and gone.
All you are is a scar.
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