She vomited dead butterflies [the end of love is terrible].
(6655321-28212-2213) No, the love is terrible.
Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralysed by it.
I’d like to be my old self again but I’m still trying to find it. After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own, now you mail back my things and I walk home alone. But you keep my old scarf, from that very first week, 'cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me. You can’t get rid of it 'cause you remember it, all too well.