i'm tired of spending all this time
getting rid of what i've got
and everything i'm getting now
is sick or made of rot
but don't think that i've given up
i cannot change my mind
i'd have a better chance at turning water into wine


it seems like we have said goodbye
close to a hundred times
and maybe right before we hit that mark
the count will cease to climb
and i can give up everything i want
and do all there is to do
but goodbye number ninety-nine will make its way to you


fold, fold, fold!
fold your hands and kneel
cry, cry, cry!
without a script can you still feel?
hide, hide, hide!
you hide your weakness with your strength
i don't know how you expect to survive
loving at arm's length


something in your binding changed
when i pulled you off the shelf
i had killed the boy you loved
and you nearly killed yourself
and i can't give up anything i need
and there's so much more to do
so goodbye number ninety-nine has made its way to you