Its one a.m. you havent 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
Theres nothing left
For me to feel

Its like goin to bed at a quarter to three
Finally tired, finally empoty

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?

Its like goin to peices could fix everything
At this point Im really me