I've heard all of your tales from above
This high chair
Foundations are breaking as your colours appear
We're blurring the lines
Slow-burning in time
Who cares?
Counting all the lovers you have lost
Or times you got hurt
Who cares?
Counting off the years you have lost
And times you got hurt
I concede all insecurities
That you've caused
I won't plead to all crimes pinned on me,
And moves that you've made