| I don’t want to leave this city |
| Go back to the place I called home |
| Back there it gets messy |
| My shoes don’t fit anymore |
| I can handle a tight squeeze |
| They wont go with my outfit |
| I don’t think I’m superior at all |
| Just think that I’ve grown out of it |
| This boy back at home |
| He sent a text |
| On Saturday night |
| He wont lay to rest |
| What we had in July |
| I should want him dead |
| But I stayed by his side |
| Like all of my friends |
| Oh, I hate to see |
| This fake empathy |
| Don’t apologize |
| Then throw it back at me |
| You and I both know |
| If this were anyone else |
| I’d send him to hell in a minute |
| But nobody wanted to listen |
| So here I am finally miles away |
| From a life I used to know |
| Wish that I didn’t have tears down my face |
| Crying about a boy from home |
| I don’t wanna leave this city |
| End up in that basement again |
| He always threw the worst parties |
| The girls deemed as the audience |
| God forbid they let us in on the fun |
| Instead we’re outside every joke |
| I afraid that I’ve become the punchline |
| «The girl that can’t let it go» |
| Oh, I hate to see |
| This fake empathy |
| Don’t apologize |
| Then throw it back at me |
| You and I both know |
| If this were anyone else |
| I’d send him to hell in a minute |
| But nobody wanted to listen |
| So here I am finally miles away |
| From a life I used to know |
| Wish that I didn’t have tears down my face |
| Crying about a boy from home |
| No thanks |
| I’ll stay |
| Here in New York with my |
| New friends |
| Apartment |
| You don’t cross my mind |
| These streets |
| Hold me |
| Tighter than you ever did |
| You have to admit |
| I don’t wanna leave this city |
| I don’t see your face in these crowds |
| When I recognized your cologne on the subway |
| I took the next station out |