I'm still bleeding from the glass stuck deep in the cuts on my hands Maybe things will go back how they were before Bedtime stories of a rabbit and a tiny door And everyday I still dream of the last time you said that you wanted to dance But you just don't ask me anymore And I'm just so tired when I get through that door But every night I still think of the way that you made me feel pretty again A reoccurring dream of skyscrapers on ocean floors And memories of loved ones trapped in Polaroids And everyday I wake up and think of you and how good things never last Maybe things will go back how they were before Memories of loved ones trapped in Polaroids