| I can dish it out but you know I can’t take it
 | 
| When you told me every time
 | 
| That you came that you were faking
 | 
| So I guess I’ll never know
 | 
| If I was mackin, yes or no
 | 
| Got a seven foot cut on my foot the day before
 | 
| When you pulled out my glass heart
 | 
| And broke it on the floor
 | 
| I guess I’m gonna go
 | 
| To the house of broken hearts and bloody toes
 | 
| It hurts to think about
 | 
| I got no doubt — I figured out
 | 
| My little head is so shot without you
 | 
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
 | 
| You put inside my mind when you walked out
 | 
| Just a little scratch but it feels like it did
 | 
| When you’ve fallen off the short bus
 | 
| And landed on your head
 | 
| I felt a little low
 | 
| When you told me where to go
 | 
| Right straight down to hell
 | 
| Cramping up your style
 | 
| But your style ain’t cramping me
 | 
| But what you gonna do
 | 
| When you’re sleeping with the enemy?
 | 
| I’m always at your show, in the very back row
 | 
| It hurts to think about
 | 
| I got no doubt — I figured out
 | 
| My little head is so shot without you
 | 
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
 | 
| You put inside my mind when you walked out
 | 
| My little head is so shot without you
 | 
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
 | 
| You put inside my mind when you walked out
 | 
| My little head is so shot without you
 | 
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
 | 
| You put inside my mind when you walked out
 | 
| My little head is so shot without you
 | 
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
 | 
| You put inside my mind when you walked out |