You’re on the phone with your girlfriend she’s upset.
Shes going off about something that you said
‘Cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do
I’m in the room it’s a typical Tuesday night
I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like
And she’ll never know your story like I do
But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts
She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers
Dreaming about the day When you wake up and find
What you’re, looking for has been here the whole time
If you could see that I’m the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can’t you see, you
You belong with me You belong with me
Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn-out jeans
I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be
Laughin’ on a park bench, thinking to myself Hey isn’t this easy
And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town
I haven’t seen it in a while since she brought you down
You say you’re fine I know you better then that
Hey whatcha doing with a girl like that
She wears high heels I wear sneakers
Shes cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers
Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find
That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time
If you could see that I’m the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can’t you seeYou belong with me
Standing by and waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know
Baby you belong with me You belong with me
Oh I remember you drivin’ to my house in the middle of the night
I’m the one who makes you laugh
When you know you’re about to cry
And know your favorite songs And you tell me about your dreams
Think I know where you belong Think I know it’s with me
Can’t you see that I’m the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can’t you see
You belong with me Standing by and waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know Baby you belong with me
You belong with me
You belong with me
Have you ever thought just maybe
You belong with me You belong with me

La incisión, hendidura poco profunda en la mano, no cicatrizó. Perdí mucha sangre y justo en este momento, yo no estaba preparada. Era lo único que completaria el ciclo del dolor, cicatrizaría pero no ahora, no justo cuando más lo necesitaba. Que tonta fui, perder el control, una cuchilla filosa, y yo al filo. Ironía maldita que atosiga mi mente, mi alma y mis instintos. Brutal y sensacional pero no agradable. Cuestiones hipócritas de una vida más, chocolates derretidos en lacenas de un tiempo atras.