fallin under my own weight
body fillin up with hate
we ain't talked in a day or two
but to me it feels like two weeks too
im missing you like a baby misses its mum
and slowly this is what i have become
a mean creature, filled with hate and spite
i stay up til theres no more moonlight
thinking about whether the spark we don't even have, would ever ignite
deep within myself, theres a vicious dogfight
and i wish that to me, you would be skintight
but to you, i'm dimmer than a night-light
and to me, you're definite, but to you, i'm finite
so i guess to us, it's goodnight.
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