This is just a simple write,
to speak to a girl tonight,
although she won't read, it's sung,
i still need to write out all that you've done,
when i was young i dreamt of something
better then this, you give me nothing,
even though i haven't asked for much,
it doesn't mean you should act like such,
my life is an open book on a table,
or some depressing yet beautiful fable,
i know i'm able to go this alone,
it'll be tough but i'm done getting stoned,
i remember the days last Summer all too well,
for the past year i've been living my own hell,
remember walking hand in hand in the city,
now one year later i city walk when no ones with me.