My DNA is running out,
I am not the guy who makes you smile now
And when we talk, it's not the same,
but I already lost the gene for feeling pain

So I won't cry, I will just pretend,
I'm still the one and that we are in love again

But when I call you are never home,
and I am down to six or seven chromosomes
But you don't care, or understand,
how it feels to be a single double strand

All these molecules don't make me who i am, you did

I'm still the one