Monday

Count up all the things I've done Notice there not bad at all All the lies that you become Loved me truly, when it was convenient? Are you there to catch me when I fall? Question that remains stands tall Yet guarded from memories Does it mean the heart is often used To say goodbye with bounds I only think of you Do you think of me? All that's left are these fucking memories Fucking memories Didn't ask you for your point of view Humbled smile, sad but true Listened to all I said to you And rested your eyes on the sight of contentment Was there a point of all those saddest rules? Only locked me down and aided my wounds Sheltered from memory Does it mean the heart is often used To say goodbye and make bounds I only think of you Do you think of me? Cause all that's left are these fucking memories All that's left are these fucking memories And all that's left are these fucking memories All that's left are these fucking memories