I don't miss you at all.

I just feel like you're getting away, quietly.
Like we're in the middle of a sentence, but suddenly I realized I was talking to myself.

Like when you get bored of my subjects and you choose your own.

You're like that chicken flavour we don't do anymore.

We've got to make new ones, for the better.
We've got to make new friends, friendlier.

I may not know what I'm saying...
but of one thing I'm certain:

I don't, I don't really miss you at all.