Phases

When your sick game with nostalgia becomes  tragic
Oh when your nostalgia turns into obsession
When your head says hide but your guts say seek
When all you have left is your deceitful intuition-
Run to the place she used to live in
Crawl in the bed she used to sleep in
You'll find that even though she's gone
Her smell is still haunting these walls
These stairs are still facing her falls
And maybe you can still catch what's left of her love.