This cold wind
It’s not whispering in your ear
Like in the stories that you hear
The past that brought you here
It made you kneel
And crawl around like a madman
Searching for “use to be’s”

Coffee, coffins and cigarettes
Broken dreams
And small regrets
They fill you
It’s all you are these days
There’s no beauty
Is this cold beast of fast self-destruction
Lost in her silence
All alone….

Wait all day for night to come
To go and see the place once more
A broken man with dirt in his hands
A fallen man with dirt in his hands

Do you remember
How you hated to hear her talk
About what she did that day
And you always had to say
That you did nothing
Having breakfast in bed with your demons
Waiting for inspiration

Coffee, coffins and cigarettes
Broken dreams
Small regrets
They fill you
It’s all you are these days

She’s six feet under
But she’s watching you drown in her silence…..

Wait all day for night to come
To go and see the place once more
A broken man with dirt in his hands
A fallen man with dirt in his hands