Vārdi: Dashboard Confessional. Saints And Sailors.

This is where I say I've had enough and no one should ever feel the way that I feel now. A walking open wound, a trophy display of bruises and I don't believe that I'm getting any better.

Waiting here with hopes the phone will ring and I'm thinking awful things and I'm pretty sure that few would notice. And this apartment is starving for an argument. Anything at all to break the silence.

Wandering the house like I've never wanted out and this is about as social as I get now. And I'm throwing away the letters that I am writing you 'cause they would never do, I would never do.

So don't be a liar, don't say that "everything's working" when everything's broken. And you smile like a saint but you curse like a sailor and your eyes say the joke's on me