1, 2, 3, 4, many marks more...

I'm running and I don’t want you,

I'm moving on step by step,

I’m hopeful but more miserable.

All this shit is making me insecure, 

and I hope someday we find our way. 

But right now, if you can, please go away. 

I want to forget you, 

and please do remember. 

I am so sick because of you.

I am not yours, 

but you want me for yourself. 

I don’t want your shit; 

I don’t like seeing you by my side. 

Go away immediately, 

so I can be happy. 

Right now, I don’t want to hide.

I want to be real, 

and, maybe, to show off.

I'm sorry, but ever since adolescence, 

you wanted to call me your own. 

1 is the loneliest number, 

2 is a pair,

3 is a crowd,

And 4, many marks more…

"We" is a word we’ve always used, 

but now you have to choose: 

1 to be alone, 

2 to be happy,

3 and 4,

With you, I will never find joy.

But if you still want me, 

you’ll forever be my insecurity.