I'm still bleeding from the glass stuck deep in the cuts on my hands
Maybe things will go back how they were before
Bedtime stories of a rabbit and a tiny door
And everyday I still dream of the last time you said that you wanted to dance
But you just don't ask me anymore
And I'm just so tired when I get through that door
But every night I still think of the way that you made me feel pretty again
A reoccurring dream of skyscrapers on ocean floors
And memories of loved ones trapped in Polaroids
And everyday I wake up and think of you and how good things never last
Maybe things will go back how they were before
Memories of loved ones trapped in Polaroids