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This one time I kissed a girl for cla** war. I pulled her hips in close and held my left fist high above her pale right clavicle. She said "oh tell me darling do you think we have a future?". "Well maybe, kind of, I'm pretty sure we've two between us". Bring over pictures of your dead pets and relatives and we'll just say it's over if I don't shed any tears. I'm calling you again on your telephone and all I ever get is another stupid ringtone. He's gonna get drunk and call you at four in the morning. He's gonna get drunk and call you at four in the morning. As if I walked into the room to see my ex-girlfriend (who by the way I'm still in love with) s**ing the face of some pretty boy, with my favourite band's most popular song in the background. Is it wrong that I can't decide which bothers me most? In the forefront of my mind is a thought not of you underneath but me coming out looking worse. I'm calling you again on your telephone and all I ever get is another stupid busy tone. He's gonna get drunk and call you at four in the morning. He's gonna get drunk and call you at four in the morning.