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It's Dead
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The Summer of Summers And you look around, wondering where I’ve gone.
That’s so typical of you.
You’re always too stoned to notice when the door is open
When I can’t stop crying
I can’t stand how you do this to yourself.
Don’t you know how bad it can get?
Don’t you know I’ve been watching it for too long,
Too long to see you do this to yourself,
You, the one person I’ve never honestly forgotten,
No matter how much you hated me?
I consider the odds of your success
I consider the obvious: my regrets
And I can’t tell anymore
Why I can’t stop crying
If it’s over you, because I love you and you’re
Killing yourself slowly, softly
Or if it’s because I know that
I’m not giving up on you,
That you’re giving up on me, every time you flip out your lighter
And the smell of potent marijuana fills the room.
And I just sit here, and miss you.
Knowing.. that it’s not really you that I miss but that it’s really
Who I thought you were.
Knowing:
The deeper the love, the harder the hurt.
Not knowing:
Why can’t you love me?
Why you don’t love me like you used to.
Why that bong means more to you than I do
(every time you drop it, your eyes bug out
And you curse at yourself, like it’s the most precious metal.
Wasn’t that how you acted every time you hurt me?)
Why every teardrop hurts?
Why you just don’t care.
Knowing:
This romance?
It’s dead.
