It's come to be that time of year
when the leaves have fallen
and the trees are bare,
and your lungs begin to breathe in cold air.
Now, you sit idle in the parking lot
of some old abandoned hangout spot,
and you try to comprehend the things you're not.
With one shallow breath, you calculate your costs.
And with one sigh of regret, you tell yourself you've lost.
Well, I won't watch you die
the same slow painful death, night after night.
I won't watch you cry
over the same subjects night after night.
You sit, calm, on this subway car,
taking you so very far,
and every day that passes is so hard.
You struggle to find the words to say,
but no one can understand anyway
just how hard it is at the end of the day.
With one shallow breath, you calculate your costs.
And with one sigh of regret, you tell yourself you've lost.
Well, I won't watch you die
the same slow painful death, night after night.
I won't watch you cry
over the same subjects night after night.
Maybe it's so that autumn just wasn't our season.
Well, I won't watch you die
the same slow painful death, night after night.
I won't watch you cry
over the same subjects night after night.