I‘m holding out and i‘m holding on
to every letter and every song
i pulled myself out of the day we ever had to meet
are you throught with me?
And when it all goes to hell
will you be able to me sorry with a straight face?
I‘m all ears and i‘m all scars
to hear you tell me "boys like you try too hard to look not quite as desperate"
i‘m hanging on
but i still the way to make your makeup run
so
And when it all goes to hell
will you be able to me sorry with a straight face?
Take this to your grave
and i‘ll take it to mine.