My bed won’t feel good for me anymore
And the sheets are twisted 'round my legs and shoulders
My thoughts are twisted too
And I’m not trying to put anything on you
But I’m sick of writing love gone wrong songs
I’m sick of even trying sometimes
Been watching you from the corner of my eye
And the sun coming up
Coming up
On the subject of my self abuse
I’m sure that we could talk but what’s the use?
Everyone wants everyone to listen
But everyone hears only themselves
And I’m sick of writing love gone wrong songs
Sick of my mouth too
I don’t wanna hear yours
So don’t listen to mine
And we’ll all be just fine
And nearly maybe love time
And nearly maybe love
Maybe love time
Time