Now and then I think of when we were together,
like when you said you felt so happy
you could die. Told myself that you were right for me... But felt so lonley in your company
but that was love and it's an ache I still remember.
You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness, like resignation to the end, always the end... So when we found that we could not make sense, well you said that ''we would still be friends'', I'll admit that I was glad that it was over.
But you didn't have to cut me off, make out like it never happend
and that we were nothing, and I don't even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger and I feel so rough.
You didn´t have to stop so low, have your friends collect your records
and then change your numbers,
I guess that I don't need that tough, now you're just somebody that I used to know...
Now my life is sweet like cinnamon, like a fucking dream that I living in.
