I walk in on Fri day nights.

Same old bar, same burned out lights; same peo ple and all the same fac es.

So, why in the hell does it feel like a dif ’rent place?

Meet my friends for a girls’ night out.

Seems there ain’t much to talk a bout.

Same drinks that we’re all rais in’, but all of the toasts just don’t feel the same.

(CN.C.)We used to be the (C)life of the par ty.

We used to be the (Am)ones that they wished they were.

But now it’s like they don’t know how to act.

May be they’re like me and they want us back.

It’s like there’s (C)al ways an emp ty space,

those mem o ries that (Am)no bod y can e rase

of how bright we burned.

Well, now it hurts, but it’s true:

when they think of me, they think of you.

They keep ask in’ how I am, but they’re real ly ask in’ where you’ve been.

I can read be tween all of the lines.

It ain’t just us miss in’ all of the times.

We were the (C)life of the par ty.

We used to be the (Am)ones that they wished they were.

But now it’s like they don’t know how to act.

May be they’re like me and they want us back.

It’s like there’s (C)al ways an emp ty space, those mem o ries that (Am)no bod y can e rase

of how bright we burned.

Well, now it hurts, but it’s true: when they think of me, they think of you.

Ain’t it fun (G)ny how a flame like that, (Oh, I al read y think of you.)

it can burn when it’s in the past.

We used to be the (C)life of the par ty.

We used to be the (Am)ones that they wished they were.

But now it’s like they don’t know how to act.

May be they’re like me and they want us back.

It’s like there’s of me, they think of you,

oh, oh, they think of you.

When they think of me, ba by, ba by,

when they think of me, they think of you.