The streets are soked in the same stale liquor
and there's a cloud of doubt in my mind.
I thought I saw a friend I'd figured for a while
that I wouldn't find.
With the golden glow of the distant city.
you were just a silhouette:
As the street lights flickered like shining
mirrors I called out, but you'd already left -
You'd already left.
And as my thoughts collide, there's no silver
lining and it's raining doubt in my mind.
Then my thoughts divide into tiny pieces and
I keep them safely inside.
Cos tragedy is the same stale liquor, god -
it tastes like home.
You were just a silhouette:
I figured I probably should have known -
I should've known.