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VERSE 1
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February,
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and
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the
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flowers
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haven't
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even
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wilted
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It's
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crazy
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how
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fast
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you
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tilted
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The
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world
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that
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we
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were
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busy
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buildin'
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Mid-November,
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and
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I'm
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sippin'
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on
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a
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half
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cold
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coffee
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Starin'
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at
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a
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girl
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who's
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not
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me
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On
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your
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arm,
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a
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carbon
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copy
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PRE-CHORUS
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Feels
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like
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we
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had
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matching
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wounds
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But
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mine's
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still
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black
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and
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bruised
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And
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yours
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is
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perfectly
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fine
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now
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Feels
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like
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we
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buried
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alive
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Something
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that
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never
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died
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So,
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God,
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it
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hurt
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when
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I
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found
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out
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CHORUS
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You
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love
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her,
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it's
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over
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Do
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you
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even
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doubt
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it
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on
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your
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lips?
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(When
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you
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say
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it,
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say
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it?)
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You
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love
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her,
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it's
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over
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You
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already
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found
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someone
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to
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miss
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While
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I'm
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still
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standin'
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at
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the
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exit
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(oh
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oh,
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oh
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oh
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oh)
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I'm
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still
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standin'
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at
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the
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exit
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(oh
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oh,
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oh
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oh
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oh,
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oh,
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oh)
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VERSE 2
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I
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can't
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hate
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you
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for
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gettin'
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everything
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we
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wanted
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I
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just
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thought
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that
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I
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would
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be
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part
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of
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it
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I
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was
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movin'
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into
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your
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apartment
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When
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you
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met
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someone,
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she's
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from
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your
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hometown
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You
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hate
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the
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East
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Coast,
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it's
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where
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you
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live
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now
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Impossible
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to
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understand
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how
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you're
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not
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comin'
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back
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But
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I
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can't
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say
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it
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out
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loud
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CHORUS
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You
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love
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her,
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it's
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over
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Do
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|
you
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|
even
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|
doubt
|
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|
it
|
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|
on
|
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|
your
|
|
|
lips?
|
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|
(When
|
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|
you
|
|
|
say
|
|
|
it,
|
|
|
say
|
|
|
it?)
|
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|
You
|
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|
love
|
|
|
her,
|
|
|
it's
|
|
|
over
|
|
|
You
|
|
|
already
|
|
|
found
|
|
|
someone
|
|
|
to
|
|
|
miss
|
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|
While
|
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|
I'm
|
|
|
still
|
|
|
standin'
|
|
|
at
|
|
|
the
|
|
|
exit
|
|
|
(oh
|
|
|
oh,
|
|
|
oh
|
|
|
oh
|
|
|
oh)
|
|
|
I'm
|
|
|
still
|
|
|
standin'
|
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|
at
|
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|
the
|
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|
exit
|
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|
(oh
|
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|
oh,
|
|
|
oh
|
|
|
oh
|
|
|
oh,
|
|
|
oh,
|
|
|
oh)
|
|
PRE-CHORUS
|
Feels
|
|
|
like
|
|
|
we
|
|
|
had
|
|
|
matching
|
|
|
wounds
|
|
|
But
|
|
|
mine's
|
|
|
still
|
|
|
black
|
|
|
and
|
|
|
bruised
|
|
|
And
|
|
|
yours
|
|
|
is
|
|
|
perfectly
|
|
|
fine
|
|
|
Feels
|
|
|
like
|
|
|
we
|
|
|
buried
|
|
|
alive
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Something
|
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|
that
|
|
|
never
|
|
|
died
|
|
|
So,
|
|
|
God,
|
|
|
it
|
|
|
hurt
|
|
|
when
|
|
|
I
|
|
|
found
|
|
|
out
|
|
CHORUS
|
You
|
|
|
love
|
|
|
her
|
|
|
(feels
|
|
|
like
|
|
|
we
|
|
|
had
|
|
|
matching
|
|
|
wounds)
|
|
|
It's
|
|
|
over
|
|
|
(but
|
|
|
mine's
|
|
|
still
|
|
|
black
|
|
|
and
|
|
|
bruised)
|
|
|
Do
|
|
|
you
|
|
|
even
|
|
|
doubt
|
|
|
it
|
|
|
on
|
|
|
your
|
|
|
lips?
|
|
|
(And
|
|
|
yours
|
|
|
is
|
|
|
perfectly
|
|
|
fine
|
|
|
now)
|
|
|
(When
|
|
|
you
|
|
|
say
|
|
|
it,
|
|
|
say
|
|
|
it?)
|
|
|
You
|
|
|
love
|
|
|
her
|
|
|
(feels
|
|
|
like
|
|
|
we
|
|
|
buried
|
|
|
alive)
|
|
|
It's
|
|
|
over
|
|
|
(something
|
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|
that
|
|
|
never
|
|
|
died)
|
|
|
You
|
|
|
already
|
|
|
found
|
|
|
someone
|
|
|
to
|
|
|
miss
|
|
|
(so,
|
|
|
God,
|
|
|
it
|
|
|
hurt
|
|
|
when
|
|
|
I
|
|
|
found
|
|
|
out)
|
|
OUTRO
|
You
|
|
|
love
|
|
|
her,
|
|
|
it's
|
|
|
over
|
|
|
You
|
|
|
already
|
|
|
found
|
|
|
someone
|
|
|
to
|
|
|
miss
|
|