Well maybe it’s me and my blind optimism to blame. Or maybe it’s you and your sick need to give love and take it away. And you’ll add my name to your long list of traitors who don’t understand, and I’ll look back in regret how I ignored when they said
: “Run as fast as you can.” You’re an expert at sorry, and keeping the lines blurry. Never impressed by me acing your tests. All the girls that you run dry have tired and lifeless eyes, cause you burned them out. But I took your matches before fire could catch me, so don’t look now. I’m shining like fireworks over your sad, empty town.