I don't think it's fair for us to turn around and say goodbye.

What am I supposed to do with this time?
It tears so many holes, I stay afloat but I'm feeling out of control, so petrified.
I'm petrified.

What am I supposed to do to get by?
Did I lose everything I need to survive?
'Cause it's 4am and the sweat sets in,

did you get my message, did it send?
Or did you just get on with your life?
I'm taking time to thinking I don't think it's fair for us to turn around and say goodbye.
I have this feeling when I finally have the words to say, but I can't tell you if you turn around

and run away.
What am I supposed to do with these clothes?
It's my twisted way of keeping you close.
I'm a nervous wreck, I'm a broken [woman].
Did you get my message, did it send,

Or do you get along on your own?

It breaks me down when I see your face, you look so different but you feel the same.
And I do not understand, I cannot comprehend, the chills your body sends,

Why did it have to end?