I've got these voices in my head of all the darkest words you said;
like monsters, sleeping in my bed.
I've got this curse like it’s the plague. I haven’t left my bed for days..
not like I ever sleep anyway.
..and I've never felt more alone, than I have with you.

But I don’t feel like dying.
I don’t feel like lying on the cutting room table,
split wide open but still able.
If it hasn't been enough to watch me self-destruct,
then these long-distanced fantasies won’t mean a thing.

I've still got these voices in my head of all the darkest words you said;
like monsters, sleeping in my bed.
So like some drop-dead Romeo, I sneak into your room
to pour salt into your wounds with every song I write.
..and I've never felt more alone, than I have with you.

There are so many different ways for me to tell you exactly what I want to say.
Like:
I won’t ever be the same..and I don’t really want to complain, but...I guess I’m gonna do so anyway. I was just trying to go outside with my friends, be someone on whom someone depends..making mistakes and making amends..trying to figure out the meaning and what the plan is. I’m breaking hearts, putting things together then take ‘em apart; and you never end up what you were at the start..a lukewarm, dry-erase Joan of Arc. I’m just a wannabe, but still…
I've never felt more alive, now that I’m without you.

Now I feel like a lion and I swear I’m always smiling
and keeping it together. C’mon, tell me if you ever
got enough? Because I won’t self-destruct
and these long-distanced fantasies won’t mean SHIT.