You lie to yourself saying
"It'll get better"
But you're on the verge of crying
In the empty warmth of his sweater

You're jealous of the things he can do
But you know that deep down the problem is you

You think about the days
You wrote him thousands of letters
Of promises and hopes and dreams
Guess that you're a destined debtor

He says that he believes in you
But what am I supposed to do?