I drove through Berlin tonight. Straight shot down the highway and through my chest. And I thought about missing you and the meaning of the word futile. I walked around this rainy college campus On a Sunday for three hours. And I thought about home and how you wouldn't be there. And I thought of me and how you just don't care. But I could swear I saw your reflection In the puddle of rain on the concrete. You were standing next to me and your lips were on my cheek. And I can swear I feel the dissection Of the whole me when you leave. And I've grown to hate this connection This connection that I weave This connection that I weave I drowned you in alcohol last night. But you poked air holes through my chest. You fought hard to maintain your place in my heart and on my mind. But I could swear I saw your reflection In the puddle of rain on the concrete. You were standing next to me and your lips were on my cheek. And I can swear I feel the dissection Of the whole me when you leave. And I've grown to hate this connection This connection that I weave Connections wearing thin Connections wearing thin But I could swear I saw your reflection In the puddle of rain on the concrete. You were standing next to me and your lips were on my cheek. And I can swear I feel the dissection Of the whole me when you leave. And I've grown to hate this connection... I don't remember anything after that.