The world that we were busy buildin' Mid-November, and I'm sippin' on a half-cold coffee Starin' at a girl who's not me On your arm, a carbon copy Feels like we had matching wounds But mine's still black and bruised And yours is perfectly fine now Feels like we buried alive Something that never died So, God, it hurt when I found out You love her, it's over Do you even doubt it on your lips?