I’m so romantic bout the past I need to break my hands and let go. It’s something ‘bout the fall and fucking up that cuts too deep and tears me up inside, why do I feel this now? It’s been some time. The clocks are falling off the walls, and smashing to pieces on the basement floor.
Back the car out the driveway slowly; just before the sun has risen we'll have crossed the Susquehanna. Tonight I’ll meet some old friends at the only diner there is for miles and we’re not in a hurry for once. Don’t speak I need to think, lock the doors please when you leave. I gotta drive somewhere you know I’m sinking slowly. Like the night you threw me to the dogs, I’ll find my own way home (as the radio sings sad songs to me softly, let the cold air heal these worn out bones).