Some days it feels like I'm still there.
Lost in the ridiculousness we called us.
Listening to the ocean breeze crescendo over here,
I barely remember what was all the fuss.

Something about what I said or did I'm sure.
Always messing up; what I did best.
Was making me your ***** the cure?
Felt like it, say what you want to the rest.

Why did I think you were worth it?
Manipulate me more, baby, you know you want it.
Put down the glass of ice water and sit.
Exhausted with all of your childish fits.