The problem with me is that in a good thing
I’ll find something bad that will make me let go
and in a bad thing I’ll pretend to find something good that
will keep me holding on to it. That’s probably why I’m
still holding on to you.
I have a tendency to pick up broken things and try
to mend them back together. I’m prone to working
under pressure, loving under pain and smiling
under the rain falling from my own eyes. You were
going to be the death of me, that’s probably why I
still want you this bad.