Nothing is right anymore. I promised myself I would fix myself by summer. Look where we are now.
It’s the art of finding out everything you wanted to know.
It’s the art of getting everything you wanted from me.
It’s the art of laying low,
Leave all your friends wondering where you’ve been.
It’s the art of letting me down,
And you perfected that.
You swore that everything was fine.
It’s clear to me now that I have successfully driven away everyone that’s ever meant anything to me. It’s bout to be a long sad summer.
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