Your face is pasty 'cause you've gone and got so wasted, what a surprise.Don't want to look at your face 'cause it's makin' me sick.

My finger tips are holding on to the cracks in our foundation, and I know that I should let go, but I can't. And every time we fight I know it's not right, every time that you're upset and I smile. I know I should forget, but I can't.