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And the funny thing is it has no end |
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I try to call you up, at 2am |
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In a crowded bar, your ringer tones |
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Grab my mind |
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I can see you through the phone, |
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The phone, the phone |
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And I'm wide awake at home |
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At home, at home |
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So think I'll seem like (?) |
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And hope you don't catch |
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The bourbon on my breath |
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My breath, my breath |
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Catch a cab outside on Seventh Street |
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And the cars fly through the Bowery |
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Then another voice, so Christ, she's not alone |
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Alone, alone |
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And my heart sinks like a stone |
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A stone, a stone |
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I feel so numb |
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So swept aside, so dumb |
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So dumb, so dumb |
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When the words are wrong |
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And my patience gone |
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Will you tell me |
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Does this mean you're moving on? |
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From the balcony, you call my name |
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I see you standing in the rain |
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Your words so dry, your face so wet |
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Said I broke your heart, |
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But it hasn't happened yet |
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I'll bet, your friends all hate me now |
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I get the strangest looks, |
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From that bitchy crowd |
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And though, they must think |
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They have every reason to |
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I guess I'm still not quite yet over you |
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When the words are wrong |
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And you're hanging on |
|
Another guy's arm |
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Does this mean you're moving on? |
