I guess I'm cursed with procrastination.
I hate myself for not paying attention.
My heart is broke and I feel so jaded.
You're the reason why I'm so frustrated.
Every night I fall asleep with the lights on.
I wake up shaking, realising that you're gone.
I kept believing you and me were on good terms,
while you tried to tell me that you had your problems.

I believe I would have seen it coming
if I spent less time on the songs I'm writing.
I never cared for what you were saying.
I can't blame you.
You gave up on waiting.
I hope you're better off alone and without me.
I hope you find someone that sees what you see.
I'm moving out to live in a hotel room.
I hope you miss me when you see what I did.

I painted the walls red with my blood.
I told myself I'd never leave here again.

I live in hotel rooms.
I'm staying forever.
Half awake and aching.
Eyes rolled back and shaking.
I'm trying to find out what
you are all about.
I'm dying to win this
just for one last kiss.

You called my room to see if I was okay.
I was dead by then with nothing to say to you.
I got nothing to say to you. (I live in hotel rooms.)