I woke up in pieces, because of you and the things you do And every song I write, they all sound the same and your to blame So I'll take a holiday, from hating you, and you won't even exist, Your off my list of people that I give a shit about and I'm all out of words to say Your part of yesterday and yesterday is gone so I moved on. So I'll pretend that your dead, nothing left to be said except a eulogy which read: You were a shitty friend and in the end I'm better off without you. I can't think of one good thing that came about from knowing you. So I'll lay flowers on your imaginary grave and never speak your name, While your memory rots and fades.