Last autumn, you didn't send me any postcards.

And maybe I'm not the girl that you thought

Or maybe you loved me once, but forgot

So, baby, go back to puttin' up a front

And guess I thought wrong for thinkin' you'd wait,

'cause I don't move on at your type of pace,

and Can we go back and talk at your place

Just, just once?

Tryin' on shoes,

puttin' on glitter

Anything to make me less bitter

Favorite blue,

take a picture

Got you like,

"Fuck"

You'll swear to God that I'm somebody else

I can't stop

You piss me off, yeah,

I'm turning it out

I can't stop.