withering the everything in you,
whatever makes you happy,
shame looks good on you.
everything is not the way i wanted it to be,
i payed for all my past mistakes;
the finger points at me.
the blame is still; i know,
baby's gone to pay.
coming back tomorrow;
what am i supposed to say?
do you know how i feel?
everybody seems to understand;
everybody but you.
i punch your code but i'm empty on the line,
nothing new to tell you;
nothing i might find.
and i'm the one to blame for all my past mistakes,
given like a virus and taken from this place.
but i don't know who to tell,
i don't know who to blame.