| You drove us home
|
| And I believed you
|
| When you said that you were fine
|
| But still I watched you
|
| In the rearview
|
| 'Till you hit the New York skyline
|
| And we drank and we talked shit and I was happy
|
| Tried so desperately to hold on to the feeling
|
| Of being young, and being sure, and being lucky
|
| 'Cause I get down, and it’s so easy to feel nothing
|
| The night closed in around us as you sang about a girl
|
| Did you love her? |
| It doesn’t matter
|
| Because our lungs are filled with air we’ve never breathed before
|
| And it’s so fucking cold it hurts
|
| We’ll leave it all behind us
|
| In this basement in Rhode Island
|
| And we drank and we talked shit and I was happy
|
| Tried so desperately to hold on to the feeling
|
| Of being young, and being sure, and being lucky
|
| 'Cause I get down, and it’s so easy to feel nothing
|
| Hey, whoa
|
| Hey, whoa
|
| And we drank and we talked shit and I was happy
|
| Tried so desperately to hold on to the feeling
|
| Of being young, and being sure, and being lucky
|
| 'Cause I get down, and it’s so easy to feel nothing
|
| And we drank and we talked shit and I was happy
|
| And we drank and we talked shit and I was happy
|
| And we drank and we talked shit and I was happy
|
| And we drank and we talked shit and I was happy |