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 [bad word] 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
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 [bad word]  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 [bad word] time I think
About your pale skin dressed in pink
Then at least I could sleep
If I had a shot for every [bad word] 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…