I hate the way you deal with things
Can't hold your hand without a ring
Pages turn while they're burning
Can't remember how you looked at me
Sitting by the garden
When I see you in the morning
Wishing we had started
In a way that's less exhausting
I'm still waiting, for you
Softly Hating, It's true
I'm still waiting, for you
In my room
In my
These pictures in the bedroom
Smiling faces that were once you
This space is, giving headroom
For the traces of your perfume
I'm still waiting, for you
Softly Hating, It's true
I'm still waiting, for you
In my room
In my
In my room (In my)
In my room (In my)
