A Quarter to Three

It's one a.m. you haven't called
It must be four wherever you are
And the photo booth strip, and the letter you wrote
They feel like nothing I could hold

Nothing bad, nothing free
There's nothing left
For me to feel

It's like goin' to bed at a quarter to three

Finally tired, finally empoty

Should I be up to play the game
Back and forth get back at me
And my confidence fell and I feel so mad
Tell me whose side are you on?

It's like goin' to peices could fix everything
At this point I'm really me