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 empty



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 pieces could fix everything

At this point I'm really me