From the album Wishbone
This is about someone who thinks they want to be left alone but is secretly building an entire emotional architecture around not knowing. Every 'don't tell me' is a confession that they're already listening. The real fear is not that the ex has moved on. It's that confirmation would force them to move on too, and they're not ready to lose the version of the relationship that still exists in uncertainty.
Heard you're in the city, I felt like total shit / Walking past the Tower Hotel
The Sunset Tower is a real Los Angeles hotel, but here it functions as a geographic tripwire. Just proximity to a building they used to pass together triggers a physical reaction, which means the narrator is still mapping their entire city around someone who is gone.
Don't tell me / Don't tell me / I can't hear it / Don't tell me
Four repetitions of the same phrase, but it's not emphasis. It's stalling. The narrator keeps saying 'don't tell me' because if they say it enough times, maybe the information will stop coming, or maybe they'll convince themselves they actually mean it.
Part of me just wanted some proof / It's hurting you in the way it's hurting me too
This is the only honest line in the song. The narrator does not want the ex to be happy. They want evidence that the pain is mutual, because mutual suffering is the last form of intimacy they have left. It's dark but it's real.
I wish you the best but hope that you die inside / Every time I'm playing in London
The contradiction is stated out loud, which is almost brave. But notice what the narrator actually hopes for: not that the ex suffers generally, but that they suffer specifically when reminded of the narrator's success. The fantasy is not revenge. It's relevance.
It's easier to never know / 'Cause I've still got a little hope / That you might want me back one day
The parentheticals do what the rest of the song refuses to do, which is admit why 'don't tell me' is not actually a boundary. Uncertainty keeps the door open. Confirmation would close it. The narrator would rather live in unresolved hell than face a resolved ending.
The narrator is not stuck because they cannot move on. They are stuck because moving on would require letting go of the version of the ex that still might come back. The song ends with 'walk away' repeated like a mantra, but it is directed at no one, which means the narrator still has not done it themselves.