You're old news   the way you act the way you flip your mood swings so briefly and stumble back to consciousness   I can't believe what you said, but I know some day you'll be here in this box that I made for you   it's almost too soon for this feeling of weaker eyes conceating my loathing for you   it's all too close to the truth   sorry I slept through alarm clocks watching me   listened to everything   not exactly what I used to be   empty bottles clouded minds   jars with no lids in sight   it's old news   your personality seems to lack something more then a smile shrugging back at me   how do your shoulders hold that had?   I guess that it must be lighter than air   can you spare please your sympathy?   it's awfully intriguing on how you keep blaming me   pathetically you're all washed out and torn   your name makes me shake   my shirt won't come clean   it's all in the advice that you take   it's all in your head