Well, it might as well count for something
For me to suffer for a better day
And not the masquerades of the many
I think I'll skip past all the drama queens
And let them amuse themselves
With shallow conversation, oh
Well, it might as well count for something
'Cause this patient heart's getting bored with life
And regret's my only company when I sleep
And I'm backed up at the borderline
I'm cut short of moving on again
And why do I, said why do I consider this flawed?
Do you miss me at all?
Do you miss me at all?
Do you miss me at all?
Now Isabelle takes the back seat to oblivion
The quiet type of emotion
And God, I wish her well
Isabelle paints a masterpiece in color
And it's black and white underneath
And if all her friends could show her, what it means to be loved
I'm rounding up my reasons why I ever left
I dont get no answers, but the speculation lives
Do you miss me at all?
Do you miss me at all?
Do you miss me at all?
Do you miss me at all?
And we might as well call it love if it makes you feel better
Said, we might as well call it love if it makes you feel better
And we might as well call it love if it makes you feel better
Said, we might as well call it love if it makes you feel better
Do you miss me at all?
Do you miss me at all?
Do you miss me at all?
Do you miss me at all?
Well, we might as well call it love if it makes you feel better