| I sold myself short, again and again,
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| To be what you needed: a means to an end,
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| I swore you were worth it, I swore I wouldn’t feel a thing,
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| I’m in between hate and love, still finding myself hopelessly tethered to your
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| picture on the shelf,
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| 'Cause I know you’re not hurting, and that hurts most of all.
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| Sinigng ooh, you played me like a fool,
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| You took what you needed, and left me here jaded and used,
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| Why’d oyu have to go and ruin everything?
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| Why’d you have to tell me all your hopes and dreams? |
| Why can’t you just pick
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| the phone up when it rings? |
| I’ve been calling all night.
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| Here’s to feeling like I’m never enough,
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| Here’s to giving all I have for this love,
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| Here’s to distance and longing, and what still is haunting my head,
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| Here’s to doing this over again,
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| Here’s to living with all this regret,
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| I’ve never been a quitter, and it makes me much more bitter in the end. |