It was me that made you smile
From both the corners of your mouth
Lips cracked like a weathered footpath
But all the lines I'd figured out
And he could have been our child
And that could have been our house
I can't feel you in the dark now as I lay awake
All I do is make mistakes
Can I just bury the rubble?
I'll go get the shovel
And oh, all I want is to forget it
But I can only see your face
Can I just bury the rubble?
Dig on the double
And oh, all I want is to forget it all
But at the very least I'll dig an early grave
It was me that broke our hearts
A glass puzzle on the ground
I cut my fingers on the pieces
When I try to figure out
How I'm ever meant to put it back together
I'm not a problem solver
I'm a problem author
You might know me
I wrote the book on screwing up
I think I forgot my will to live
It must be under your pillow
Where I last remember feeling anything at all
You are the reason I write
You are the reason I choke
It's pretty clear you were right
I don't think I'll ever cope
I'll waste away all my time
Cause I'm all out of hope
There's no reason or rhyme at the end of the rope
I cannot love
I just screw up
There is not a single thing I do that is enough
I cannot love
I just screw up
I will die alone, and these five songs will be my last: I'm giving up.