Are we really who we used to be?
at one point did we choose to see,
each other until it, for you, got strange,
easy to use Italy as an excuse you changed,
i changed too, and it's because of you,
way before you ever left, it's true,
the dark and pain used to nightly kill me,
now i count down the hours, it thrills me,
cause if i can continuously write about one,
maybe that means we're not fully done,
or it could mean that i am just dumb,
giving more to a girl who only ever gave some,
am i really who i was that Summer?
or am i unknown like an open mic drummer,
just here to give beat, then in the end move on,
like all lead singers, i love the way you groove on.