Imperfect

Some things are better off forgotten
We bury them in places that we really only visit by ourselves
Oh, and you were a version like no other
Oh, they never tell you what to do when all you see is gone
What’s the sense in anything when what they say is wrong?
Oh, what do you wanna hear?
Do you wanna know how many times
I tore myself apart 'cause you’re not here?
And, oh, what do you wanna know?
Does it make you feel alive
I had to die to finally let you go?
Stop me, I find myself believing
A story gets rewritten so a blasphemy is permitted once again
Oh, and you were so perfectly imperfect
Oh, they never tell you what to do when all you have are lies
What’s the sense in anything, it’s just one more goodbye?