It’s funny how the leaves were green
Now they fall from trees
And the last ones brown and gold
I worry when I go outside
That the world won’t like me
And my old heart of stone
It’s funny how we used to know
What it meant to love
Now we don’t know how to talk
I wish that when he said goodbye
I could dry my eyes
And accept that as enough

You’re not in love with me
In love with mystery
And when the veil lifts this will all be history
Like when you kissed me
Felt you missed me
Like you aimed for the head but didn’t hit me
Lost the purpose I crafted
Myself and it’s too late to start again

Lost the purpose I crafted
Myself and it’s too late to start again