There's a hint of truth to every lie
If I'm the one you call yours at night
Where am I when you wake up
In the bed of the one you call angel

I cling to a reminder
That I'm not a crime
That no one else is sharing you
I scorn myself for wanting more
Truth be told, I don't want the truth
If it rips me apart like a piece of mail
Left on the table
Then disregarded, expected as more

And you say that I'm nothing more
So off I go, I'm a flicker in your memory
I pick up the phone expecting your face
Why do I let myself be lifted
Only to fall back into the pit of your indifference