so, guess i got old i was like trash on the sidewalk i, guess i knew why often it's hard to just sweet talk
i was old news to you then old news old news to you then
you, you were like glue holding each of us together i, slept through July while you made lines in the heather
i was old news to you then old news old news to you then fell for the rouse with you then
old news old news to you then
and i still see you when i try to sleep i see the guard in the tower the street(?) call out to nobody call out to me chip on the shoulder, the dime(?) in the teeth(?)
now, i can see how we were like dust on the window not, much now that i everything stored in a bubble i was old news to you then old news old news to you then