It's one a.m you haven't called it must be four wherever you are And the photo booth strip, and the letter you wrote they feel like nothing I could hold
Nothing bad, nothing free there's nothing left for me to feel
It's like goin' to bed at a quarter to three Finally tired, finally empty
Should I be up to play the game back and forth get back at me And my confidence fell and I feel so mad tell me whose side are you on?
It's like goin' to pieces could fix everything At this point I'm really me