I’m so paranoid that every time you say I’m pretty it’s a lie.
Or when you say I’m sweet.
Or when you promise I’m perfect.
When you speak words like sugar,
and when you say you want to hold me near, I can’t help but wonder if you know it’s what I want to hear.
Maybe you’re just using me,
maybe I’m kinda sad,
maybe I thought you were with it,
maybe I fell so bad.