the point is moot
it doesn't matter anymore
i knew it was over
you've opened the door
i knew it was over
you've left with a piece of me
don't know if i want it back
you've left me with memories
don't know if i want them back
i'm holding onto pieces of you
those pieces slipping through my fingers
I'm putting together of what little remains
of the pieces that slipping through my fingers
grasping at nothing,
holding on to nothing,
you're not here anymore.