Spend all day sitting on the edge of my bed, starring down upon my cluttered floor...making wishes inside my head, ya know i'm better off dead. it's saturday morning and i'm all alone, i guess that's nothing new. by sunday afternoon i don't know what to do, i'm tired of being sad over you...over you. if i hear your name in one more fucking song, i might just have to leave it out of this one, i could be wrong...you burned out that last ounce of heart i had left, go figure i guess that's why they call you...why they call you that.