So this really the end.
You don't want me as a friend.
Can't make it work or try to bend.
There's nothing left of my heart to mend.
So this is really the end.
There's no more texts to send.
Can't form a point to make.
There's nothing but this empty ache.
So this is really the end.
No arguments to defend.
My hands just to start to shake.
Feeling hollow and so small,
why'd I ever love at all.
So this is really the end.
This is really the end.
It's really the end.
Really the end.
The end.
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 8:57 PM UTC
So this really the end.
You don't want me as a friend.
Can't make it work or try to bend.
There's nothing left of my heart to mend.
So this is really the end.
There's no more texts to send.
Can't form a point to make.
There's nothing but this empty ache.
So this is really the end.
No arguments to defend.
My hands just to start to shake.
Feeling hollow and so small,
why'd I ever love at all.
So this is really the end.
This is really the end.
It's really the end.
Really the end.
The end.