You can stop pretending now.
I can't stop forgetting how,
My face has worn,
And yours has gone.

Reddened by my words,
Damaged by the sun.
And if you leave right now,
I wont say a thing more.

Stupid. I’m sick of writing.
Asleep. I'm always hiding,
The words to a song,
That I can’t hear anymore.

Can I have a better reason?
Please, one I believe in.
To make this all better,
And I’ll return back your sweater.