I read your messages.
I must have been fifteen
Old enough to know
Just what I had seen.
I know where you keep your letters
And I know where you keep the bullets to your gun.
I don't want to have to k** you.
I don't want to have to k** anyone.
It's happened all along.
It's gonna happen more.
She never had the strength
To keep driving past the store.
I know where you keep your letters
And I know where you keep the bullets to your gun.
I don't want to have to k** you.
I don't want to have to k** anyone.
That night,
Underneath the porch light,
I was the last to see her.
There were tears in her eyes.
The next day,
She was well on her way.
They had to ask why she left.
I had to tell your lies
The last time.