| I keep you at arm’s length
|
| And the hurt was still fragile
|
| I still feel it in my chest
|
| But you lived just beneath my skin
|
| Oh, I haven’t learned yet
|
| How to quit you, to quit you
|
| Decisions aren’t always wise
|
| Or easy to recognize
|
| In the glass, in the glass
|
| Something doesn’t read right
|
| Between the lines
|
| In the glass, in the glass
|
| The glass
|
| I keep you in past tense
|
| The stories I’ve rehearsed
|
| To hide from my worst
|
| But you keep breaking free
|
| And I still haven’t learned
|
| How to quit you, to quit you
|
| Decisions aren’t always wise
|
| Or easy to recognize
|
| In the glass, in the glass
|
| Something doesn’t read right
|
| Between the lines
|
| In the glass, in the glass
|
| Decisions aren’t always wise
|
| Or easy to recognize
|
| In the glass, in the glass
|
| Something doesn’t read right
|
| Between the lines
|
| In the glass, in the glass
|
| Too much
|
| Too much
|
| Too much
|
| Too much
|
| Too much
|
| Too much
|
| Too much
|
| Too much
|
| Too much
|
| Decisions aren’t always wise
|
| Or easy to recognize
|
| In the glass, in the glass
|
| Something doesn’t read right
|
| Between the lines
|
| In the glass, in the glass |