| You broke up with me, in my Camp Cope tee
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| On a Wednesday night, now I can’t breathe
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| And I’ve spent more money on fuel than food
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| It’s a Saturday and I should be with you
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| I could go for a swim but I’m not in the mood
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| I kept your keys on the bench in the kitchen
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| I’m a little alive but this feels like fiction
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| I’ve been ordering in and I’m living in socks
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| I got a text from your mum, wished me well and it sucks
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| I’ve been wearing your jumper and it’s heavy and soft
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| I really should send it back but I’ve been putting it off
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| I know our dads got sick and you got scared
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| I haven’t slept all week since you mentioned her
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| I think you’re just afraid to be alone
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| But how you leave says a lot
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| Now you’re not someone I need to know
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| She said, «wait for me before you take down the tree, next year it’s us,
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| just you and me»
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| You know I bought that fucking tree for you
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| I wish you’d talk to me, but this is nothing fucking new
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| You treated me to a call in the days of your leaving
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| I said love is choice, but you think it’s a feeling
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| And maybe it’s both, but I’m sick of believing
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| That everyone will treat me how I treat them
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| I remember you told me you miss Summer Liv
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| But I don’t want your love unless it lives through seasons
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| And I never expected you to leave like you did
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| But I guess I assumed you’d give me a reason
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| I’m just a little alive
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| (but this feels like fiction)
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| I’m just a little alive
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| (but it’s lighting me up)
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| I know our dads got sick and you got scared
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| I haven’t slept all week since you mentioned her
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| I think you’re just afraid to be alone
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| But how you leave says a lot
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| Now you’re not someone I need to know |