I sit in the middle of street,
Remembering how it used to be,
Months ago you looked at me with such a love, such a passion.
Now I question if you even look at me at all,
I listened to a voicemail you left,
It was brief, but in it you said you loved me,
Oh I remember how it used to be,
I remember quite vividly.
As if it was yesterday,
Of how you spoke to me
I stand in the middle street,
And see a shooting star,
I wish for another chance with you,
Then I think of what you would wish,
But I quit,
Because I know you wouldn't wish for that same thing too.
I begin to walk back in, and take another hit.