| It’s the coldest night in Boston
|
| In the history of winter
|
| Black as a murder of crows
|
| I’m six days clean and sober
|
| With a bottle on the table
|
| And a hurt inside that nobody knows…
|
| One shot away from shooting
|
| My soul straight through the ceilin'
|
| And I could fly away from feelin'
|
| All this pain that still ain’t gone
|
| Oh but flying’s kind of risky
|
| When your wings are made of whiskey
|
| And I know that I’ll come crashing down
|
| Just after dawn
|
| When there’s no one around
|
| And the silence in your soul is the only sound
|
| In the darkness that surrounds you
|
| Are you hiding from the light
|
| When you finally hit rock bottom
|
| Will you do what’s wrong or right
|
| You’re gonna find out what you’re made of…
|
| In the middle of the night
|
| 'Cause the night can keep a secret
|
| And hold it deep inside
|
| Every sin that keeps you sinning
|
| Every lie you’ve ever lied
|
| But my heart is bent to breaking
|
| From all the hell I’ve put it through
|
| All the love that I’ve forsaken
|
| On the run from what is true
|
| Oh now what you gonna do
|
| When there’s no one around
|
| And the silence in your soul is the only sound
|
| In the darkness that surrounds you
|
| Are you hiding from the light
|
| When you finally hit rock bottom
|
| Will you do what’s wrong or right
|
| You’re gonna find out what you’re made of…
|
| In the middle of the night
|
| Ah ohhhh
|
| In the middle of the night
|
| It’s the coldest night in Boston
|
| In the history of winter
|
| Black outside like a murder of crows
|
| Way down in the middle
|
| Middle of the night and you find your self
|
| In the middle of the night you gotta let it go
|
| Way down in the middle
|
| Way down in the middle
|
| Way down
|
| Way down
|
| Way down
|
| Way down
|
| Way down
|
| Way down
|
| Way down |