Я думал о том, чтобы написать тебе. Чтобы ты знала, что я все еще напряжен в свои 16.
Я думал о том, чтобы набрать тебе и сказать, что я все еще несчастен без тебя.
Я думал, что найду тебя на дне пластикового стакана. Но мы с тобой прекрасно знаем, что этим не наполнишь наши груди изнутри.
Там ничего не осталось.
Мы посетим нашу любовь как потерянный памятник, забытый навсегда.
Часть меня не может поставить точку на этой истории. Я держусь, но ты не будешь поддерживать меня.
Как же мне плохо.
Теперь, когда все мои письма вернулись ко мне, я сижу вокруг огня. Пусть же они сгорят.
Я не могу больше петь эту песню. Я поступил со всем этим по-детски и глупо.
I thought I’d write to you and let you know that I’m still dramatic and sixteen.
I thought I’d call you and tell you that I’m still miserable without you.
I thought I could find you in the bottom of a plastic cup but, like we both know,
nothing ever helps the swelling inside our chests.
There’s nothing left.
So we’ll visit our love like a long lost monument, forever forgotten.
Part of me won’t finish this story,
I’m holding on but you won’t hold on for me.
FOREVER ALONE.
Poor me, Poor me.
Now my letters have all been returned so I sit around this fire and let them burn.
I can’t sing this song any longer.
I’m done with all this childish nonsense.
I thought about writing to you. So you know that I'm still tense at 16.
I thought about dialing you and telling you that I am still unhappy without you.
I thought I would find you at the bottom of a plastic cup. But you and I know perfectly well that this will not fill our breasts from the inside.
There is nothing left.
We will visit our love as a lost monument, forgotten forever.
Part of me can't put an end to this story. I am holding on, but you will not support me.
How bad I am.
Now that all my letters have returned to me, I am sitting around the fire. Let them burn.
I can't sing this song anymore. I did it childishly and stupidly.
I thought I’d write to you and let you know that I’m still dramatic and sixteen.
I thought I’d call you and tell you that I’m still miserable without you.
I thought I could find you in the bottom of a plastic cup but, like we both know,
nothing ever helps the swelling inside our chests.
There’s nothing left.
So we’ll visit our love like a long lost monument, forever forgotten.
Part of me won’t finish this story,
I'm holding on but you won’t hold on for me.
FOREVER ALONE.
Poor me, Poor me.
Now my letters have all been returned so I sit around this fire and let them burn.
I can’t sing this song any longer.
I'm done with all this childish nonsense.
