Select All Delete

That hashtag wants me dead, but I don’t mind
It’s just another way we grieve
For all the times we failed to be the ones
We thought we had the chance to be
And when it gets too complicated
When you can’t get to sleep
When the morning seems impossible
Select all, delete
Select all, delete
Select all, delete
And I don’t mean to miss the good old days
The good old days were mostly bad
But I recall how dark the night got then
How absences could make me glad
So when it’s too illuminated
Too loud and indiscreet
When it gets you stoned or gets you strange
Select all, delete
Select all, delete
Select all, delete