My DNA is running out, I am not the guy who makes you smile now
And when we talk, it's not the same, but I already lost the gene for feeling pain
So I won't cry, I will just pretend, I'm still the one and that we are in love again
But when I call you are never home, and I am down to six or seven chromosomes
But you don't care, or understand, how it feels to be a single double strand
All these molecules don't make me who I am, you did
I'm still the one