day after day,love turns grey,like the skin on a dying man
and night after night,we pretend it's all right
but i have grown older and you have grown colder and nothing is very much fun anymore
i feel one of my turns coming on
i feel cold as a razor blade tight as a tourniquet dry as a funeral drum.......
and night after night,we pretend it's all right
but i have grown older and you have grown colder and nothing is very much fun anymore
i feel one of my turns coming on
i feel cold as a razor blade tight as a tourniquet dry as a funeral drum.......
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
holding on to a broken telephone
holding to what is left at home
holding on cause I just cannot let it go,
Now....and then...
when i think I've reached the bitter ,bitter end
I remember it's just really all pretend
Did you feel it too?
Did you really think it through?
A drink goes down with out stopping for ME
I watch you go on to places I will never see,
places you have been and where I'll never be,
off the ground through the sky,
across the ocean..
Carry me home tonite,
'cause I feel wasted all the days of my life,
Tomorrow everything will be alright,
If you carry me home ...tonite
here and there..
finding things that make me more aware,
finding that no one really cares,
And the truth is just too much for us to bear,
wish I was stoned,
I just talk into a broken telephone,
talking to no one at all cause I'm alone
So carry me home tonite
cause i'm too wasted to see with out your light
just carry me home......tonite