I’m bruised a little and I knew I would be.
I didn’t get a chance to fill up the pages, to go through the stages.
I’m fighting the urge to cling
While you sing.
I chose the right you.
I chose the wrong you.
I always choose the ones I’ll lose…
I suppose they’re already lost.
I pushed a little too hard.
Gave you all my faces.
Now I fill the spaces with disgraces.