If I ever looked back on what used to be, there's no way I could ever live with myself. I'm sick of everything, including this relationship that we so often call our best. Lost in this fog of disappointment, my outstretched arms have nothing to hold on to. I've got the pill to ease the pain, but I lack the water to help it down. Tell me I mean something more, because I never thought I'd see the day that I'd be sick of being your fucking friend. So grab the noose and leave me hanging and as my lungs collapse it'll remind me of the first time that you ever took my breath away.