This won't be the last you'll hear from me: it's just the start
I hope that he keeps you up for weeks like you did to me

I will hold a candle up to you to singe your skin
Brace yourself: I'm bent with bitterness

When your apologies fail to ring true
So slick with that sarcastic slew
Of phrases like "I thought you knew"
While keeping me in hot pursuit

Tracing the plot finds skin touching skin
Absence follows

In the end, I win every time as ink remains
Sour tastes prevail as you play back the tape machine