Monday

Count up all the things I've done
Notice there not bad at all
All the lies that you become
Loved me truly, when it was convenient?
Are you there to catch me when I fall?
Question that remains stands tall
Yet guarded from memories

Does it mean the heart is often used
To say goodbye with bounds
I only think of you
Do you think of me?
All that's left are these fucking memories
Fucking memories

Didn't ask you for your point of view
Humbled smile, sad but true
Listened to all I said to you
And rested your eyes on the sight of contentment
Was there a point of all those saddest rules?
Only locked me down and aided my wounds
Sheltered from memory

Does it mean the heart is often used
To say goodbye and make bounds
I only think of you
Do you think of me?
Cause all that's left are these fucking memories
All that's left are these fucking memories
And all that's left are these fucking memories

All that's left are these fucking memories