You're old news
the way you act the way you flip your mood swings so briefly and stumble back to consciousness
I can't believe what you said, but I know some day you'll be here in this box that I made for you
it's almost too soon for this feeling of weaker eyes conceating my loathing for you
it's all too close to the truth
sorry I slept through alarm clocks watching me
listened to everything
not exactly what I used to be
empty bottles clouded minds
jars with no lids in sight
it's old news
your personality seems to lack something more then a smile shrugging back at me
how do your shoulders hold that had?
I guess that it must be lighter than air
can you spare please your sympathy?
it's awfully intriguing on how you keep blaming me
pathetically you're all washed out and torn
your name makes me shake
my shirt won't come clean
it's all in the advice that you take
it's all in your head