Friends?

My illusion of you has broken
Time and time again
And now we've stopped as lovers
Can we start as friends

I smell you in my covers
I miss you in my bed
I can't imagine others
I'd rather soon be dead

I'll fall into a pattern
Of loathing and self hate
I'll start to fill the void with vices
Gathered and innate

I'll want to tell you everything
The burdens and the bores
But how can we be friends
When there was nothing there before

What was it for
What was it for
What was it for
What was it for
What was it for
What was it for
What was it for



Credits
Writer(s): Stephen Thomas Laurenson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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