All those sticky situations seem to stick to me
Seek out my skin, but I won't let them in
Things won't be so solemn if they're tailor made for us
Cut from my cloth, then I can't rip them off
Wait and see, have some patience with me please
I'm sorry if you grow a little tired
I miss the foods I've tasted once and loved but now they're all gone somehow
You can't steal my memories, apparently you never have your own
No, not mine. I own, own, own, own, own, own.