Since when has a broken heart been a mortal wound?

When you kissed me it almost seemed like you meant it.

Sometimes I lie to myself and sometimes I forget you don't love me back

I wouldn't call it a disorder I'd call it control

I'll eventually sand that notch out of my bedpost

I know you just can't love me but can you pretend to?

I said maybe...you're gonna' be the one to save me

Finally, I have someone who wants to kiss away all the scars

Scars? Those aren't scars they're reminders.

Why does it hurt so much more when only one tear falls?