It's one a.m you haven't called
  it must be four wherever you are
  And the photo booth strip,
  and the letter you wrote
  they feel like nothing I could hold
    Nothing bad, nothing free
  there's nothing left
  for me to feel
    It's like goin' to bed at a quarter to three
  Finally tired, finally empty
    Should I be up to play the game
  back and forth get back at me
  And my confidence fell and I feel so mad
  tell me whose side are you on?
    It's like goin' to pieces could fix everything
  At this point I'm really me