Lyrics New York Times - Quinn Cicala

I think I didn't sleep last night I was
Busy thinking of your fight and how much
I wish I could be there
Hearing that you're getting worse
Seeing you is a curse but a blessing
I know it's unfair

If I had anything besides advice from New York Times I'd
Pick you up and take you home
I don't think I believed anything before I met you
And you were right here
But now you're on your own

I think I didn't eat today I was
Busy reading why your taste is dulled now
And how your body aches
Assuming you're not telling the truth
When you say that it's not so bad I'd rather
It be me than you

If I had anything besides advice from New York Times I'd
Pick you up and take you home
I don't think I believed anything before I loved you
And you were right here
But now you're on your own
You were right here
But now you're on your own

If I had anything besides advice from stupid guys I'd
Pick you up and take you home
I don't think I cared about anything before I loved you
And you were right here but now you're on your own
You were right here but now you're on your own
You were right here but now you're on your own