| White lines, white sky
|
| Light through a sliding glass door, I
|
| Woke up, washed off the second hand smoke
|
| The second hand smoke
|
| Time did what time does
|
| Burned all the days and years and I
|
| Woke up, washed off the second hand smoke
|
| The second hand smoke
|
| And where did we go so wrong?
|
| I was hiding from the rain and the rolling thunder
|
| And where do we go from here?
|
| I’ll be hoping that somebody will break my cover
|
| Changed plans, washed hands
|
| How do I turn back time
|
| Lay down, breathe in the second hand smoke
|
| The second hand smoke
|
| These lines which bind
|
| Youll never wash me of it now
|
| Float on somewhere in second hand smoke
|
| In second hand smoke, I know
|
| Where did we go so wrong?
|
| I was hiding from the rain and the rolling thunder
|
| Where do we go from here?
|
| I was hoping that somebody would break my cover
|
| Where did we go so wrong?
|
| I was hiding from the rain and the rolling thunder
|
| Where do we go from here?
|
| I was hoping that somebody would break my cover
|
| Where did you go so wrong?
|
| I was scared that someday maybe you’d pull us under
|
| Where do we go from here?
|
| In second hand smoke, in second hand smoke
|
| Secondhand smoke, secondhand smoke |