I’m done pretending that I want the best for you. I’m done pretending. I remember everything you put me through. Everything.
It’s crashing down on your head. I’m counting down your fucking days. I’m writing down every breath you take.
You're the one to blame. You’re nothing to me. And so they say...
You made your bed, now sleep in it. You dug your grave, now rot in it. You made your bed, now sleep in it. When will you get.. what we had is fucking dead?
When will you get it..? That what we had is fucking dead.
Its just not the same. Youre nothing to me. Those days are dead and gone, and im leaving.
Fucking sick of all the bullshit lies, the alibis. Won't play these games, dont call my name. Say i never tried...