Monday morning, I pulled you into my arms
Walked on the ceiling all wrong
Now I'm just wishing you gone
Thursday morning, you know I said it all wrong
My urges pushing me on
Now you're just wishing me gone
This was not the best decision making process on my part
I should have known from the start, new friends were better off dead
Like the words in my head, new sheets on old beds, and the way that I can't pretend
Like I'm not wishing you gone, and on and on and on
But I guess thats fine, always so indifferent to my state of mind
Yeah those things that matter most
Sell your plastic pride, but I see it in your eyes
That you're not alright
Sit, and you wait, for these words to hit you the right way
But these words, complicate, decisions waiting to be made
(I'll pull your knife out, wishing you were right now, try and get your life out, of my troubled way)