What Hurts The Most

Tapping of the keys, deafening in the night
The shrill of your phone;
I wonder as any soul might,
Deep down i don't believe,
That you could stoop so low as to decieve.

This world's icy like the world of Jack Frost
I pick up the clues;
That are falling like snowdrops
I open my mouth to speak
No-one hears i feel so weak.

You catch your flight, for one last time
But this is the weekend that we find the goldmine
We found the proof, they believe me now.
All the damage you've done...

Proud?