You linger in doorways Uncomfortably It seems to me that always You're about to leave Roll corner bedsheets off my bed Press eyeballs up against eyelids The problem with being fucked like you're hated Is it's hard not to be convinced The diary, a eulogy of a world famous satire Oh please, just let me live Your fingers dig into my lap And baptise your anger, then fall back to back If I could rewind the time I'd stay there in england We'll have a glass of wine And watch fatal car crash compilations All I can see Is a wasted opportunity All I can be Is a diagram for desperation Want to enjoy sad music But it's all with the same context Words they weave and how they choose to use it Someone else wronged the subject I wish I'd be The one who's hurt indignantly But I can see The only one who's hurt someone is me