I wrote on your heart,
wrote on your songs,
wrote out my misery all along.
Too blind to see,
were meant to be,
or am i mistaken for imaginary catastrophed destiny?
I thought you were different,
thought you were like me,
but i was mistaken now, obviously.
I wanted you bad,
i was forever sad,
and couldn't you see me going mad?
Did you care? Did i mean nothing.
A book you opened, and didn't mind shutting?
Am i mistaken, or am i, "miss taken?"
By all of these sights that made me awaken?
I'll try to move on,
So yeah i understand,
I never had your heart, not even your hand.