I guess I never told you: I was never one to go backwards, and your words are just words. I'm afraid to die in Staten Island, I can't lie to you. But I'll never say I'm sorry for knowing when I've been true. So say it like you mean it so I can forget that love isn't alive here and buried in my chest. Say it like you mean it, but don't do it for me. Forget this sense of urgency so I can sleep. It's just a matter of time, so don't hold on. I guess I never told you just how much I can do with my hands tied behind my back: just enough to hold my tongue long enough to know it hurts. You said: œYou said it yourself- ˜I wouldn't miss me either'?. So I don't feel a thing when I tell you it's over. It's over.