| Why can't you see those hands are cold are grey | |
| When her imperfections hide away | |
| And in the half-light you can | |
| Barely see that face | |
| Maybe it's better that way | |
| As you fall into waiting arms | |
| That loosen their embrace | |
| Finding comfort in restriction | |
| Eternally replace | |
| Why don't you know what's going on here | |
| The same things happen every few years | |
| As you fall into waiting arms | |
| That loosen their embrace | |
| Finding comfort in restriction | |
| Eternally replace | |
| Why can't you see those hands are cold and grey | |
| Their imperfections hide away | |
| At times you realize you | |
| Barely knew that name | |
| Maybe it's better that way | |
| As you fall into waiting arms | |
| That loosen their embrace | |
| Finding comfort in restriction | |
| Eternally replace |
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