When the sun rose again, to find us alone
In the chill of the morning, in the chill of your home
I was cursing to myself that I'd [bad word] again
In the sick of my stomach there were butterflies again 
There were giant frozen potholes
and guilty nervous grins

Yes those days were good days
as days some times are
but this day I'm bleeding
with all these new scars 
with open ended invitations
you'd supplement
with the sting of goodbye
oh but I knew what you meant
for the night is a shadow
from the earth on itself
and all my friends are just animals
floating on a shelf
that'll one day be frozen 
or melted inslightly
or a thousand other things
that will someday bring catastrophe
in the dark of our lives
with syntheticating machines
to pretend it's today
not to fall asleep and dream

so the porchlight i saw on my way down a walk
which’s silhoutte like a halo and a cross on your neck
and I’d drink myself to sleep if only it could be dark
somewhere out in heaven without the glimmer of stars

Without the promise of something without the terror of nothing
Without the promise of something without the terror of nothing
Without the promise of something without the terror of nothing