Lyrics: Southcott. Flee The Scene. Post March Third.

Please excuse the lateness of my reply,
Dont hold this against me,
Four years long and I dont need your company,
Please excuse my lack of will to try,
To hold this together,
I never saw the effort and I hope,

is this keeps you up late at night,
Sinking fingers in the back bones of some guy,
who will leave you before you wake,
this is your song, your greatest mistake,

how much eyeliner does it take?
To erase all the wrinkles your eyes keeps
the soundtrack of your lack of sleep

And I know,
Youre so unpredictable,
But call me Mr. Typical,
And whats his name,
Im that boy you used to kiss,
Yea you put up with my shit,
I'm so rediculous