Verse 1I Am Living In An Archive Buried Deep In Someone's ChestLogging Every Word They've Said And Everything That They'll RegretTo Be Honest, I'll AdmitI've Thought Of Burning Just A BitOff Any Book That Even Mentions YouNow, You Will Remain Anonymous, But I've Grown A CollectionA Heaping Pile Of Yellowed Books, Just Itching For CorrectionWith Everything You DidIt's Hard To Shelve Even A Little BitThe Tear-Stained Pages Taken Up By YouChorusAnd Oh, I'm An ArchivistBut I Have Morals And I Think You're Better GoneAnd Oh, I'm A HereticChunks And Paragraphs Are Missing, If I Rewrite Your Wrongs AndCall Me A RevisionistBut I Don't Want Her Holding All This HurtAnd Oh, I'm An ArchivistI Guess The Plot Holes Would Need FillingBut I Am Not ForgivingYou're Lucky That I Do My Job So WellInstrumentalOutroI Am Stranded In The Spines And ScribblesNames And Dates Gone ByAnd Yes, This Is My Work, But I Cannot Help But CryShe's Grown And Changed So MuchI Can't Just Take Away That Pain, ButKnow That I Will Not Think Fondly On You,In My History Books, She'll Never Forgive You
