I just drove under the Lincoln sign To where New Jersey meets the New York line And through the tunnel for the last time With everything crumbling behind I stood still until I felt the shakes Of two bodies that were parting ways I didn’t want to be the one to say I know this hurts but it’s time to break In two pieces, the fault line is not secure A boat or bridge is needed to get back to her
I feel like I am paralyzed When I look at the extra space left in my bed And think about all the things we did At least I’m feeling more alive But I still have some old weight that I’ve got to shed Before I find happiness
I make mountains out of my worries And I plant pain instead of sturdy trees I have got to wash these old sheets So I can fall asleep There are times, there are times I reach for the phone To tell you that there might still be some hope Holding on to the slack of rope But that’s the whiskey talking, so I hope that you can find some peace in life Can you survive without me? ‘Cause I thought I’d be fine. Now I am slurring every single line.
I feel like I am paralyzed When I look at the extra space left in my bed And think about all the things we did At least I’m feeling more alive But I still have some old weight that I’ve got to shed I’ve got to move on before I can find happiness
This isn’t fair, nobody taught me (how to let go) “Just be here now” and you’ll be set free from sorrow? But at this time, I don’t see clearly (How will I know?) What is the point? What is the meaning?
Now I’m struggling, I black out so I can’t dream But I still see you sneaking through my weary head I summer from a drought of medicine to dull self-doubt I just wanna drown you out with southern poison If I had a drink for every Goddamn time I think About your pale skin dressed in pink Then at least I could sleep If I had a shot for every Goddamn time I thought About your face and what I lost At least I’d get some sleep Sleep, sleep, at least I’d get some sleep Sleep, sleep, then at least I’d get some sleep…