| Hang yourself like I’ve hung on
|
| To every word you’ve ever said
|
| Take those times in your car
|
| When you’d be dressed to kill
|
| On the way to see the stars held in your palm
|
| But never let out for me to view
|
| And replace them with that night out on your porch
|
| This time I’m dressed to kill
|
| And we’re killing time wishing it was each other
|
| And if I had a dime for every time
|
| I felt less potent then
|
| A piece of dust collecting on my picture
|
| Which lies face down
|
| (Set your ice on this road
|
| Turn your headlights ablast
|
| Let’s make my first accident my last.)
|
| On desolate shelf in your room
|
| I’d be rich and wishing that you won’t be home soon
|
| Move to the other coast 3,000 miles away
|
| And then I’ll sing so you know
|
| I’m making my way across these purple mountain majesties
|
| Torch in hand ready to burn these amber waves of distance
|
| Still hung over from the present and the past
|
| Intoxication never lasts
|
| All good things in life come to an end
|
| And those experiences worth reliving
|
| Are now eyes wide shut
|
| They’re eyes wide shut
|
| It silently screams to me
|
| This unanswered question;
|
| Was it fact or was it fiction? |
| Was it fiction? |