Switch the Script
Track 1 of Maybe I’m the Problem
[ Lyrics ]
I used to cry when you left — now I’m texting three. Stood in the mirror, wiped the steam with my sleeve, swiped left on the playlist called 'Us' — now it’s 'Roster' on repeat. Same tears, different reason — not loss, just release. You liked me fragile, now you’ll have to readjust the peace. No more late-night voice notes, no 'where are you?' texts, just me in silk, drafting next love like a check. Crossed your name off in red pen, not hate — it’s promotion: from heartbreak to homework, from pain to position. You said I’d crumble without you, said I’d never last. But look at me now — I’m the fire, not the ash. So don’t call it cold, don’t call it fear — call it focus. Call it clear. I used to cry when you left — now I’m texting three. Used to beg for love — now I’m taking inventory. Switch the script, switch the scene, every night’s a premiere, not a memory. He sent a meme at midnight, one booked the Maldives, another just listens — no pressure, just vibes. I don’t love any, but I use every. Curate my attention like couture — it’s crucial. You taught me devotion, I flipped it to power. Your ghost in the hallway? I turned it to cover. No more 'when will he notice?' — I’m the headline, play my own hero, and the rest are just side lines. You liked me soft, now I’m edited sleek. No flaws in the frame — just angles you can’t read. Don’t call it revenge, don’t call it pride — call it upgraded. Call it my time. Switch, switch, switch — From victim to vision, from doubt to directive. Switch, switch, switch — I’m not healing right — I’m healing effective. I used to cry when you left — now I’m texting three. Used to beg for love — now I’m taking inventory. Switch the script, switch the scene, every night’s a premiere, not a memory. Switch the script — Switch the script — Switch the script — Yeah… switch the script.