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That hashtag wants me dead, but I don't mind It's just another way we grieve For all the times we failed to be the ones We thought we had the chance to be And when it gets too complicated When you can't get to sleep When the morning seems impossible Select all, delete Select all, delete Select all, delete And I don't mean to miss the good old days The good old days were mostly bad But I recall how dark the night got then How absences could make me glad So when it's too illuminated Too loud and indiscreet When it gets you stoned or gets you strange Select all, delete Select all, delete Select all, delete