I remember when I felt safe here.
Your eyes are still heavy on me every time
I hide in the corner and fake getting away.
I need you to hold me together again,
and I can't stand thinking for a second I'm
falling apart.

I should have promised you I'd be happy again,
'cause I hate fucking up when you're around
even more than usual.
But then I'd just make that something
more than it already is, like everything,
and it'd become another little burden
that I laid on you from my skeptic peaks.

I'm not even good at the things I'm good at anymore,
and my lights are going off every second
I get farther and farther away from you.
Can you save me again?