So what have you got to say for yourself?
It‘s 3am and I‘m not asleep
Countless nights on the couch and I can‘t say
That everything you said was the truth
You stabbed me in the back again
You walked right through my door and I‘m not scared
I took these memories of you
Placed them in a box, scattered you and viewed...
Isn‘t it easy to say the truth?
Why can I begin to find words? They come with so much might.
Isn‘t it easy to see what you have done to me?
My words, they cannot explain what you did to me.