6am the room is cold and you're not there  The ceiling fan could really use some dusting  Looking around your pictures Ive not taken down  I remember the days  You always had something to say...  Now the storm has faded and you're gray  You aint got a god damn thing to say  Looking back at the way things used to be  You lost everything when you left me  You kept me down  You picked me up to push me out  Along the way I figured out that I miss me  Because we were we  You didn't leave no space for me  Your hairs too long your clothes are worn  You're constantly a bitch to me  You kept me down  You picked me up to push me out  Its all in vein  Aint got a god damn thing to say  The things you say...