How ironic it all seems because I remember you telling me   about other lovers running out of words to say to each other   and how beautiful you thought it was and I agreed that   would never happen to you and me   so here we sit in silence, searching our heads for common ground   we've rehashed the past and beaten it down   left us with nothing, no present, no future   I still read your letter and all that evil makes me sick   But this is regimented pain and it gives me the illusion   that I have lived   I was the one that pushed you off the pedestal I put you on   And with my arms still outstretched I watched you fall   And break apart like glass on the highway   I realized my mistake a bit too late   Because I'd never risk picking up the pieces,   Jesus look at them all   I'd never risk picking up all those goddamn pieces   because I lose control at the sight of my own blood   I still read your letter, and all that bullshit makes me sick   But this is regimented pain and it gives me the illusion   that I have lived