All those sticky situations seem to stick to me Seek out my skin, but I won't let them in Things won't be so solemn if they're tailor made for us Cut from my cloth, then I can't rip them off Wait and see, have some patience with me please I'm sorry if you grow a little tired I miss the foods I've tasted once and loved but now they're all gone somehow You can't steal my memories, apparently you never have your own No, not mine. I own, own, own, own, own, own.