Here I am, I'm clearing off the tabletops,anything to 
forget about you.
And there you are, you're packing up the
picture frames. 'Anything to forget about
you.' I'm not ready for this. I'm just
ready for you.
Desperation: I hate to say it but it's the
state that I am in as I stand by the
telephone booth for you to call me.
Flashback: we're locked out of your parents'
house, but it's all right because we spent
the night in the backseat with your lips
on mine. Everything was just fine.
I could be happy, like you, if I stabbed myself in the
face. So what do you say?
'I say Pardonne-moi? But is this worth it?
Are you really worth it? Are you worth the
words that we're screaming? Can't you hear
the words that we're screaming?'
We could be happy, just us two, if we go back to
the apartment now. It's an emergency,
code blue. And now everybody's thinking, 'How
could this happen to you two? You should go
back to the apartment now.' It's an
emergency, code blue.
I could be happy like you, if it wasn't for you.
The words sting from your salted tongue and
it's hard for you to hear when you're licking that
ash from my face. 'So what do you say?' I
say, 'Pardonne-moi.'