I thought I'd write to you and let you know that I'm still dramatic and sixteen
I thought I'd call you and tell you that I'm still miserable without you
I thought I could find you in the bottom of a plastic cup but, like we both know
Nothing ever helps the swelling inside our chests
There's nothing left
So we'll visit our love like a long lost monument, forever forgotten
Part of me won't finish this story
I'm holding on but you won't hold on for me
FOREVER ALONE
Poor me, Poor me
Now my letters have all been returned so I sit around this fire and let them burn
I can't sing this song any longer
I'm done with all this childish nonsense