This is it

Sitting by the phone
Hoping, wishing, dreaming
You’d be erased from my memory
Or at least from my directory
This can’t be good
Cause you’re bad for me
Now praying, thinking, saying
This will be the last day
I get to be so worked up over you
And your accusations
Your childishness
My foolishness
Me feeling guilty
For something you have done
Something I could never do
Guess the blame is really on me
For letting this happen
So…
This is it then

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