My hairs getting longer and im not eating, I lye in my bed
watching the flicker of the candle slow dance to the sounds of the broken
hearted songs playing through the speakers, I drown out the silence with the
ones who know best, John Mayer leads the gang followed by some Goo Goo Dolls, Edward McCain and the rest. They know how to make me want to cry without
letting the tears fall down...
Sleeping alone is a new kind of empty, not even the boys
from the songs can fill the void, they just help me through it by creating the
noise.
And I can't help but to wonder, did they feel it too?
Who did the boys listen to when they wrote their songs, were
they really that unhappy all along?
Every time I try to let you go, something brings me back in,
a song or a even the tiniest little memory. I do so good, I last so long, but
something brings me back and then im gone. Gone into depression, gone into
regret, I never thought you’d be someone I’d have to try so hard to forget.