Remember all the things we wanted? Now all our memories — they’re haunted. We were always meant to say, “goodbye.” Even with our fists held high, it never would’ve worked out right: we were never meant for do or die. I didn’t want us to burn out, I didn’t come here to hold you — now I can’t stop.
I want you to know that it doesn’t matter where we take this road, someone’s gotta go. And I want you to know you couldn’t have loved me better, but I want you to move on. So I’m already gone.