| Leave me to my own devices
|
| It’s better when your coca-cola eyes are out of my face
|
| I checked your phone and no surprises
|
| She’s grinning from ear to ear in purple lace
|
| So take your orchids
|
| Elsewhere, elsewhere
|
| I loved you to death
|
| And now I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause you’re running 'round over there
|
| Yeah, you’re running 'round over there
|
| And now I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause you’re running 'round over there
|
| And now I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause you’re running 'round over there
|
| I’ll miss your t-shirt in the rain
|
| The one that makes you look like Gerard Way
|
| Eating grapes in the back of the party
|
| Throwing hands 'cause she drank your Bacardi
|
| I know it’s kinda dumb but I’ll miss the way you dressed all punk
|
| With the black and the studs and the ripped up clothes
|
| Bet she loved your tough guy frown
|
| So take your orchids
|
| Elsewhere, elsewhere
|
| I loved you to death
|
| And now I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause you’re running 'round over there
|
| Yeah, you’re running 'round over there
|
| And now I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause you’re running 'round over there
|
| And now I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause you’re running 'round over there |