Thought I’d write to you and let you know that I’m still dramatic and sixteen I thought I’d call you and tell you that I’m still miserable without you I thought I could find you in the bottom of a plastic cup But like we both knew, nothing ever helps the swelling inside our chests There’s nothing left So we’ll visit our love like a long lost monument, forever forgotten
Part of me won’t finish this story I’m holding on but you won’t hold on for me Forever alone Poor me, poor me Part of me won’t finish this story I’m holding on but you won’t hold on for me Poor me, poor me
Now my letters have all been returned And I sit around this fire and let them burn Let them burn Now my letters have all been returned And I sit around this fire and let them burn Let them burn I can’t sing this song any longer And I’m done with all this childish nonsense I can’t sing this song any longer I’m done with all this childish nonsense