You came at me with your music taste and bought two weeks of drinks for me like everything I thought I'd ever want. You called me out for low self-esteem just when I thought I'd given up so tell me how to tell you: you probably should have stayed a stranger at the bar. You probably should have kissed anybody else. Please don't want me to be nice to you. I can't promise that anymore. And in the interest of honesty I never saw what you saw in me, but that's nothing that I'm unfamiliar with. I told you why I smiled at you, but I know that that won't explain the things I thought I'd never have to say, like: you probably should have stayed a stranger at the bar. You probably should have kissed anybody else. Please don't want me to be nice to you. I can't promise that anymore. I mean it when I say I need to be alone, so I'll leave the bar and get lost two blocks from home. Think about it: bad shit happens to bad friends. Bad shit happens to good friends. Bad shit happens to my friends. Bad shit happens to your friends. Bad shit happens to you. Bad shit happens to me. Bad shit happens to everyone. You probably should have stayed a stranger at the bar. You probably should have kissed anybody else. Please don't want me to be nice to you. I can't promise that anymore. A year from now if we meet again you'll ask me if I think of you. I'll say "at least you got a song." You heard how my head malfunctions, turned to me and asked about it, tugging on my sleeve to catch a glimpse. You probably should have stayed a stranger at the bar. You probably should have kissed anybody else. Please don't want me to be nice to you. I can't promise that anymore.