her eyes are red with sentiment but that is not her style
it's hard to cover all that up with makeup and a smile
and as your rusty knife makes it's way between my lungs
ill chew it up and spit it out until my back is numb
because a real friend would stab you in the front
pat you on the back when they tell you it's ok
until you figured out that I knew that you had made it up
I'd bet my life on that I know it isn't much
but you're no better than that
will we ever speak again is what I ask myself
but if you don't wanna talk its cool
ill be up here on the shelf
in between forgotten books that told of love gone wrong
with stupid boys and stupid girls that fuel this stupid song
REPEAT CHORUS
my lack of premonitions has lead me to believe that when I walked out she figured out how she lost everything