One, Two, Three Forget-me-nots knot themselves inside my heart My heart is clearly caked in mud And muttering, "She loves me not. She loves me not. She loves me not. She loves me not." Now I don't know what's real or not, and I don't know what feeling's caught inside my glove Is it lust or love? Or something that's about to explode? Is it moonless nights in mid-November? Is it one last kiss that I meant to give her right before she slammed the car into a telephone pole? Is it holding on for one last heartbeat? Is it sitting in the waiting room trying not to fall asleep and wondering if I do will you hold it against me? Is it lipstick? Is it chapstick? Is it something else entirely? (x2) Four, Three, Two Not to make you feel guilty, But if you really loved me You wouldn't let this flower die. You wouldn't let the winter scream, "She loves you not. She loves you not. She loves you not. She loves you not." But she's got to. Now I have no clue what's real or not, And I don't know what flavor's caught on your cold lips when we close our eyes for one last kiss Is it lipstick? Is it chapstick? Is it breaking down or breaking up? Is it lipstick? Is it chapstick? Or both? You better hold on / You better hold it off You better hold it in / You better hold out (x2) Is it starless skies in late November? Is it silence, sadness, sour surrender? Thinking of that night I dug myself this bulletproof hole Is that her shadow on the staircase? Is that her singing in the living room or just the television? Am I depressed? Is it madness? Or something else entirely? Am I depressed? Is it madness? Or something else entirely? Is it lipstick? Is it chapstick? Or something else?