Tate McRae
One Day
She stares at her ceiling once again with a hundred thoughts
"Maybe he knows who I am, probably not"
She walks down the hall with her head down low, scared to meet his eyes
Even when she hears his voice she's swarmed with butterflies
It’s impossible to get you off my mind
I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine
I've understood that you will never be mine
And that's fine, I’m just breaking' inside