The number two,
the house is on the door.
But every time you open it,
as if you are not sure
if you even live here anymore.
Anymore.
Well, I know what you're about to say.
I know that look there on your face.
But I'm tired of reading your mind this way.
So why don't you say it?
You're tearing me up inside.
Tearing me up inside.
It feels like something in me died.
Feels like something in me died.
All of the bright colors that lived inside of me
are now just tiny little pieces of what used to be.
And it just feels like confetti.
Well, I remember on our wedding day,
thinking how those flowers would all just fade away.
And it seemed like such a waste of beauty.
And now you're tearing me up inside.
Tearing me up inside.
It feels like something in me died.
Feels like something in me died.
All of the bright colors that lived inside of me
are now just tiny little pieces of what used to be.
And it just feels like confetti.
Confetti.
Isn't it
a crying shame that nothing ever stays the same?
I can't fit into that wedding dress.
I'll be 23 again.
But you're looking at me now like you don't know who I am.
And I'm tearing you up inside.
And I'm tearing you up inside.
All of the bright colors that lived inside of me
are now just tiny little pieces of who I used to be.
And it just feels like confetti.
Confetti.
Confetti.
Confetti.