You left it.
I sent it.
I want it back.

You left it.
I sent it.
I want it back.

If I had you here
I'd clip your wings,
Snap you up,
And leave you sprawling
On my pen.

This plan of mine
Is "Oh, so very" lame.
Can't you see
The grass is greener
Where it rains?

And you left:
I died.

I wept:
You cried.

You came:
I think.

But I never really know.

Now I've served my time.
I've watched you climb
The wrong incline.
But you never really know.

Accept it.
Don't let it
Fuck you up.

Accept it.
Don't let it
Fuck you up.

This applies equally
To you and I:
The only thing
We've shared
Is the same sky.

These empty metaphors:
They're all in vain.
Can't you see
The grass is greener
Where it rains?

And you left:
I died.

I wept:
You cried.

You came:
I think.
But I never really know.

Now I've served my time.
I've watched you climb
The wrong...

You left it.
I sent it.
I want it back.

You never really know.

Accept it:
Don't let it
Fuck you up.

You never really know.

You left:
I died.

I wept:
You cried.

You came:
I think.

You never really know.

I've served my time.
I've watched you climb
The wrong incline.

You never really know.
You never really know.

You never really know.