I'm so sad I can't tell you shit anymore
I made friends with Abby this year (this is how I met your mom) (oh, my God)
We're movin' in in March or so
And although you bring me to tears
I'm glad that we gave it a go
High school in Jakarta, American summer
Had no chance against the Marxist girl with marijuana
I was your pinata, she was a star-charter
Glad she gave it to you real hard, but I loved you harder