When nothing else remains but bruise and blame
Now begins the game
With you climbing to hide in your sophistry
And clever me calling "oxenfree"
Till you get caught at being you

You've got that look again withdrawn and spent
Such a pretty thing
When you slip into sack-cloth and ashen skin
Your frozen whim sprawling on a pin
When you get caught at being you

You don't even know the first thing about regret
I might even forgive you forget about forget
I'm checking my diary I think that I've heard this all before

You'll stay the way you've always been
You beautiful and selfish shit
You should have been a pair of pairs
Of ragged paws upon the doghouse floor