I'll just stand there Breath breaking dead air With these kinds of feelings I'm such a bloody mess. I'll just lay there Stare at the ceiling With these kinds of feelings So sick of counting sheep. And I'm afraid of Feeling alone Because I've had my Way with the truth I don't own Anything I haven't stole From you, I know. There's no excuse. This is what's left Of me when you Pass through that open door. I have my desires and regrets, But i'll never forget that day we met.