​history

Wait 'till I get home to read your text
So I don't crash the car
You've never been very good at opening up
Except when it's my scars
You could call me cynical because I'm tired of wasting faith
Disappointed but not surprised
It's always the same

You can't predict the future
You can't change what you can't see
But every time I'm with you
My history repeats

How are you backing out
When we haven't even started?
Go on and join my collection
Of my dearly departed