Оригинален текст
Crowded rooms, all alone
In my head, I feel dead or near the brink of it
Apathy rains on me
Melodies aren't remedies for broken hearts, so I'm told
Never thought things would turn out quite this way
Never thought I'd run out of things to say to you today
It just makes things worse
It's a gift it's a curse, for what it's worth