I know it's a cliché   When they say we were doomed before we could start   We were making no headway   But cold logic wont bring back the sound of your heart      It's probably too late now, so I won't try to taste it   everything that I love, I manage to waste it      Wish I could help you to hate me   You slice the wound and I'll pour in the salt   Alcohol makes the pain stay   But either way it's everybody's fault   And now when it rains, the trees send no comfort   I'll try to forget that everything's my fault   And I'll never call, it's such a mean distance   What once was before, I guess is now finished      I'm helping you hate me