tumbling trees and bumbling branches
leave it to me to **** through the circumstances
perhaps you reflect the mess of second glances
with these days all sideways I'm not much to take chances

I never felt like we were quiet
quite a perfect match
you leave it to me to unravel the riot
I leave it to you to deadly the catch

and you're next
and i'm next
and we're next
and he's next

and one day this will all be mine.