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letra de subtext read nothing new - of montreal

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i hate people who think they, “knew me when”
as if i was once true and now am false
a personality is a progression, some wild twisting beast
that never stops escaping from itself

in the ghetto of winter, i traced my hand on a place mat
drew your face with my eyes closed
pretended i was eating with my favorite author
pretending i was making him laugh

i just don’t know how to feel
i just don’t feel but i wouldn’t even notice
no, i wouldn’t have any reason to care
if not for your complaint

i know that i make you unhappy
but what can i do?
i wasn’t created just for you
not just for you

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