Remember me? I "used to be" your best friend. I was too nice and too much and still not enough at the same time.
It's difficult to tell who really our friends are. Too often we became a victim of false pretense.
I can't recognize myself lately. I'm someone I used to know. I think you took me with you, and I was hoping you could just leave me somewhere else because I've been waiting for myself, waiting for all of the pieces to come home.