You left me a frappe at the door
As if that'll make me forgive you
Words flying
Glass breaking
I have PTSD
Oh would you pick up the pieces and love me?
My first love I love you
But he loves me
He loves me not
Sometimes I wish you'd rot in hell
Seems I'm the only stairway to heaven for you
Little angel
I'll drink your frappe and try again in the morning
Won't pack my things
Just stay put until a smile lights your eyes
