I keep count of every meaningless Monday
Every Friday without witnesses
Of every kiss I no longer gave you
I keep count of every record we listen to
Of every date we hide
Of every Thursday that I cried for you
I keep count it seems like nonsense they pass
The nights and the pain don't cool down
And each step returns to you
I keep count has already become a hobby
I count the hours that turn into days
In every attempt to live without you
I keep count of each moon that we spent
Of every hell we tried
Every week that I died for you
I keep count it seems like nonsense they pass
The nights and the pain don't cool down
br/>And each step returns to you
I keep track, it has already become a hobby
I count the hours that turn into days
In every attempt to live without you
In every attempt to live without you
br/>Keeping count seems like nonsense, they pass
The nights and the pain does not cool down
And each step returns to you
I keep count has already become manà The story
The hours that become days
In every attempt to live without you