Memories Of The Ones We Hate The Most

We gave you all the hopes we couldn't share and a fraction of the air

We held on to the strips of what was right to the fading rays of light

But these rooms are full of ghosts of the memories of the ones we hate

The most hell you grew up pretty easily I'm sure mary queen of Arkansas

It's too early for the dreaming or the stars and it's too late for the bars

But these rooms are full of ghosts these rooms are full of ghosts of the memories

Of the ones we hate the most these rooms are full of ghosts of the pictures

Of the hosts these rooms are full of ghosts of the memories of the ones we hate the most