I'm not drinking tonight; but I still feel queasy
I'm sure as hell deserving, after everything I did to you
So what the hell am I still doing in your room?
"It's not me, it's you"
Have we changed?
Considering things, I still feel the same
Stumbling at this rate
I'll never change
I swear that I tried, but this time was a goodbye
I've been avoiding places that I know you've been
And spending time with good friends
I still remember last december
So what the hell am I still doing in your room?
"It's not me, it's you."
If I'm thinking about you
It's not because I want to
If I'm talking to you, I don't want to
