I think the walls are dancing,
in spinning pirouettes.
they stutter step upon the toes
of our screaming silouhettes

I think the window's crying.
'cause I can see it's pane.
ever since you shut me out
I haven't been the same

I think the tables broken
'cause you're pictures on the ledge
or maybe cause it's heart had heard
those last words that you said.

And I think you're feeling empty now,
but who am I to say?
you pathetic little chicken shit
you found love but ran away.

You can't recall those words you said?..
but you're the one who made'em..
and you left a note, I think it read..
"I still love him"... Verbatim