She likes the smell of cigarettes and cologne.
And she will stay up all night on her phone.
She has long hair, longer than anyone here,
We would jump off of cliffs,
Cuz you would never show any fear.

I’m sitting at the bottom—
Thinking of you,
I’m sitting at the bottom—
Crying over you.

I sigh,
As you start to cry.
Telephone wires keep our conversation high.
I throw my phone,
After you say goodbye.
But in my ear
I can still hear,
The ‘end call’ tone.