On Summer Letra

I blame myself for fucking up.
The weight on my chest was something I wouldn't wish on anyone.

I can't understand why I get so angry when
I hear things you say about how "over it" you think I am.
'cause I sure as hell would like to think that I've moved past
All the things that hold me back.
But the truth is...

There will always be that part of me, that pit in my chest;
There to replace the space you lived.

But the more I sink into reasons it didn't work out
I wonder if you've ever blamed yourself.

And no, I don't mean "blame" in some superficial way.
As if I could ever say you weren't good enough for me.
I mean that there are pieces of what we were
That were flawed and immature.
And your lack of trust, with a lack of reason
Helped fuck this up.