how it went down v1

I think it's July 16 when you sit me down, say
you feel, that you
can't make you anymore, say
sorry as you take back
the mystery flight and the sole condolence
tear up the Absolut posters, the nightmare before.
I think it's Sunday when I say 'this
isn't working' and you
you know i know you
never meant it to, want to want not quite
there right
so it's still
not cool love that i've a need to fill, say
sarcasm to imagine gone
and you you backing down the drive
all the time whisperin 'I do, I do'