"Nice"

Pop up because the grape vine whispered to you
That I have a new man

Bing
"Do you have those pictures of us on your wall still"
Bing
"Are they taped up there"
Bing
"Do you stare at them at night"

Yeah, they're up there
In a collage of faces
I mostly don't talk to anymore

Bing
"I bet your boyfriend gets mad, why would you keep them."

They're a good reminder of, my happy times,
before I wondered every day what was wrong with me.
And he understands they're a part of my past,
my past makes up different parts of me.
When he sees my face smiling next to yours,
he can judge the one he paints.
When he asks the story of what happened,
He'll know how much hearing my lover in bed with
another
ripped me to fucking shreds.
Did I have no dignity?
He knows to caress me gently
To keep his eyes from wondering.

He's not the jealous type

Bing
"Nice"

Are you angry?

Bing
"No"

You have no reason to be jealous, it's been almost a year.

Bing
"Is he the jealous type"

He's not the jealous type.
He would have ripped them down in a frenzy.
Set fire to my pash, and put the remains in the ash cup
we use when talking about music.
He's not the jealous type.
But he fucking hates your guts.
He knows you're partially the reason why
The doubt smothers my throat at night
and I can't breathe
I don't miss you
I miss me before you stepped a fucking toe in my life.

Bing
"I really miss you. I want to try again. I can't see myself with anyone else."

Nice