"So this is the new year"
And what if this doesn't feel any better?
Every piece of advice that I never asked for I've still followed through to the letter

But nothing's improved -
Does this mean I ought to move?
Or at least figure out what you're still doing here in the next room?

And you still call me up when it gets to you:
I guess you haven't shaken it yet
And I'm sure I could bring myself to accept your answers if only I could forget

The way that you'd smile when you rolled over in the mornings like maybe it was worth your while
Like maybe something I could do could've saved you

Could save you, could save you
Could save you from yourself
Could save you, could save you
(What else?)

And there's nothing lucky about your charm
Well it comes off so effortlessly

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