Another day, it's poetry
Write it, spill my heart out to her
But I'm no writer
Just bad rhymes and some confused sentiment
It was love, she's done with me
I'm no good here in this world for no one
I watch the window
Count cars, not a new thought in my head
And I sold my hopes
To closing doors
Left to die in the snow
Getting old and getting bored
I color inside the lines of days with blue
Since we drove up to Bunker Hill and you
Said "I can't take a winter one more year
If I don't leave now, I'll die right here"
You got aboard on a train headed no place
Took a seat by yourself, we all need space
Passing towns with no names, no lit streets
From wet and cold to dry and heat
Dozing off, nest in your arm
Rumbling through desert night
Cling to your overnight bag
Train jerks, voices float, the engine wails
When the station emptied out
I dragged myself down to Franklin Ave
Where the sleet, it hit me
New dreams rusting on some old steel rails
And I sold my hopes
To closing doors
Left to die in the snow
Getting old and getting bored
I color inside the lines of days with blue
Since we drove up to Bunker Hill and you
Said "I can't take a winter one more year
If I don't leave now, I'll die right here"
You got aboard on a train headed no place
Took a seat by yourself, we all need space
Passing towns with no names, no lit streets
From wet and cold to dry and heat
From wet and cold to dry and heat
From wet and cold to dry and heat