|
it was January and you were melting |
|
while the rainfall turned to snow |
|
and you were thinking of the end |
|
all the reasons you couldn't let me in |
|
sometimes it's easier to sever the connection |
|
burn a bridge to help them believe |
|
it's not your fault |
|
she's crying at an empty page |
|
of words you couldn't form |
|
all the bitterness and misplaced rage |
|
she said the water's fine |
|
won't you breathe it in with me |
|
that weight you feel |
|
it will leave with me |
|
if you let it go |
|
if you let me go |
|
no one will remember |
|
and you can't make it on your own |
|
but you don't want anyone else |
|
so you'll go down with this sinking ship |
|
and let the ocean fill your lungs |
|
she said the water's fine |
|
won't you breathe it in with me |
|
that weight you feel |
|
it will leave with me |
|
if you let it go |
|
if you let me go |
|
no one will remember |
|
it was January and you were filling chambers |
|
in case it took more then one |
|
but you know it never does |
|
it only ever takes one shot |
|
and you took it |
|
in the dead of winter you were melting |
|
while the rainfall turned to snow |
|
and you were teaching us a lesson |
|
about how easily we could let go |
|
she said the water's fine |
|
won't you breathe it in with me |
|
that weight you feel |
|
it will leave with me |
|
if you let it go |
|
if you let me go |
|
no one will remember |
