If you keep on telling your friends that we're through.
I've got nothing here but loneliness
Holes in walls and bleeding fists.
My head is pounding like a pillow, like a big black song.
Well my friends and I try to tell me you're gone.
Won't listen to myself or anyone.
You got on a plane and off you went.
You're never coming back again.
I'm trying to convince myself it's true.
I'll be just fine without you.
I'll be here telling myself it's true.