I kept all the things you threw away. A leaf I picked, a birthday card I made. Holding on to memories of you and me; we're just a box of souvenirs.

Maybe I pulled the panic cord and maybe I was happy, you were bored. Maybe I wanted you to change. Maybe I'm the one to blame.

This meant more to me than it did to you. You were full of doubt and I believed. The more that you keep coming over, the more I know it's over.

It is the right time to push myself and keep pushing before it's too late. Cause the closer I look the scarier it is. Just turn the table on.