missing you, missing me
You don’t have to listen to what I say
You don’t have to do things my way
You can burn your bridges if you want to
And it’s your own choice
To fall flat on your face
Is this what we became?
A dead painting in a frame
We turned into something we don’t wanna be
Now I miss the old you
And you miss the old me
You don’t have to do things my way
You can burn your bridges if you want to
And it’s your own choice
To fall flat on your face
Is this what we became?
A dead painting in a frame
We turned into something we don’t wanna be
Now I miss the old you
And you miss the old me
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