She was close, close enough to be your ghost, but my chances turned to toast when I asked her if I could call her your name.

And I’ve asked everyone; I’m beginning to think I imagined you all along.

Sing another fucking shalalala.

And I go crazy cause here isn’t where I wanna be and satisfaction feels like a distant memory, and I can’t help myself all I wanna hear her say is ‘r u mine?’

When I’m not being honest, I’ll pretend that you were just some lover.