withering the everything in you, whatever makes you happy, shame looks good on you. everything is not the way i wanted it to be, i payed for all my past mistakes; the finger points at me. the blame is still; i know, baby's gone to pay. coming back tomorrow; what am i supposed to say? do you know how i feel? everybody seems to understand; everybody but you. i punch your code but i'm empty on the line, nothing new to tell you; nothing i might find. and i'm the one to blame for all my past mistakes, given like a virus and taken from this place. but i don't know who to tell, i don't know who to blame.