bandaid

I'm not your bandaid and you're not my glue
but nothing sticks together, baby, the way I stick to you
I'm never truly happy, I'm only not as sad
but if that's the way you like it, baby, it must not be that bad

and all your letters in a box
and in the trash are all the clocks
and all your words inside my head
I keep your soul beside my bed
and all the pictures on the floor
I'll walk on you like me before

I overdosed on xanex just to find a smile
but if you've got the prescription, baby, I might just stay a while
I'm never really free, just lonely in disguise
but I'll find all the beauty, baby, and let you use my eyes

and all your letters in a box
and in the trash are all the clocks
and all your words inside my head
I keep your soul beside my bed
and all the pictures on the floor
I'll walk on you like me before.