I'm tired of faking it

Tired of playing this stupid little game

Of placing the blame on everyone else

I remember those days

I remember them well

As sorry as I am

I rather go to hell

I'll meet you there first

When I die of a broken heart

And you of all the beating you rightly got

And I'm surprised

That I'm still number five

After all I thought I put you through

I guess it was all in my mind

All our lines written out like a play

Lies were all fake

And as you explained it

I realized what had happened to our picture perfect lives

We hammered it to death with our careful love