I can't make you love me, want me, or understand me. all I can do is hope that someday you will

on the first page of our story the future seemed so bright
then this thing turned out so evil. I don't know why I'm still surprised
even angels have their wicked schemes, and you take that to new extremes
but you'll always be my hero even though you've lost your mind

now there's gravel in our voices. glass is shattered from the fight
in this tug of war, you'll always win. even when I'm right
'cause you feed me fables from your head with violent words and empty threats
and it's sick that all these battles are what keeps me satisfied

so maybe I'm a masochist. I try to run but I don't wanna ever leave
'til the walls are goin' up in smoke with all our memories