It's one A. M. You haven't 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
There's nothing left
For me to feel
It's 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?
It's like goin' to peices could fix everything
At this point I'm really me
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