| I figured you’d just run out of things to say
|
| Like you sometimes did in the dead of the night
|
| Thought for sure we’d be just fine come morning
|
| But through cracks of early eyes
|
| I stumbled out of the bed and through our apartment
|
| Called your name out twice
|
| Where’d you go, darling?
|
| And I guess you don’t know what you’re doing
|
| Until you’ve done it too much
|
| And the best that I had to offer
|
| Was never gonna be quite enough
|
| You spent one too many mornings
|
| Just a choking down this town
|
| Guess your reasons for not leaving just ran out
|
| In the drawer by the kitchen sink
|
| There’s a cracked coffee cup and a picture of you and me
|
| Yeah that always was where we kept the broken things
|
| So I fumble through the mess
|
| Old triple A’s and a half pack of cigarettes
|
| Touched every lonely key like the beads of a Rosary
|
| And I guess you don’t know what you’re doing
|
| Until you’ve done it too much
|
| And the best that I had to offer
|
| Was never gonna be quite enough
|
| And you spent one too many mornings
|
| Just a choking down this town
|
| I guess your reasons for not leaving just ran out
|
| 'Cause you always loved summer storms
|
| And you followed the lightning home
|
| 'Cause you spent one too many mornings
|
| Just a choking down this town
|
| I guess your reasons for not leaving just ran out
|
| I guess your reasons for not leaving just ran out |