| My glass is half empty
|
| Like the promise you made
|
| Like the words that you said
|
| That are filling my head
|
| My glass is half empty
|
| Like the tears that I shed
|
| Like the hope that I bled
|
| The paranoia you fed
|
| And I guess this is what happens
|
| And I’ll be fine
|
| Just need a few more glasses
|
| And a bit of time
|
| I don’t even like the look of this at all
|
| But it burns the taste of you right out my mouth
|
| Wondering where it all went south
|
| Sitting on my own
|
| At this bar on my way home
|
| Trying not to feel so cold
|
| With a little bit of alcohol
|
| Oh it burns the taste of you right out my mouth
|
| Wonder where it all went south
|
| Making my way home
|
| I’ll be sleeping on my own
|
| Maybe it won’t feel so cold
|
| Maybe it won’t feel so cold
|
| Making my way home
|
| I’ll be sleeping on my own
|
| Maybe it won’t feel so cold
|
| If love is so simple
|
| So easy to feel
|
| Why is it so hard
|
| To spot the fake from the real
|
| I wore my heart on my sleeve
|
| But my head in the sand
|
| All the warning signs
|
| And I just feel so mad
|
| And I guess this is what happens
|
| And I’ll be fine
|
| Just need a few more glasses
|
| And a bit of time
|
| I don’t even like the look of this at all
|
| But it burns the taste of you right out my mouth
|
| Wondering where it all went south
|
| Sitting on my own
|
| At this bar on my way home
|
| Trying not to feel so cold
|
| With a little bit of alcohol
|
| Oh it burns the taste of you right out my mouth
|
| Wonder where it all went south
|
| Making my way home
|
| I’ll be sleeping on my own
|
| Maybe it won’t feel so cold
|
| Maybe it won’t feel so cold
|
| Making my way home
|
| I’ll be sleeping on my own
|
| Maybe it won’t feel so cold
|
| I don’t even like the look of this at all
|
| But it burns the taste of you right out my mouth
|
| Wondering where it all went south
|
| Sitting on my own
|
| At this bar on my way home
|
| Trying not to feel so cold |