i finished kissing my death, so now i head back up the steps
thinking about where i’ve been. i mean the sun was never like this
i wanna feel with the seasons. i guess it makes sense
cause my life’s become as vapid as a night out in los angeles,
and i just want to stay in bed and hold you like i used to
you know that i am home.. so darling if you love me, would you let me know?
or go on, go on, go on if you were thinking that the worst is yet to come
why am i the one always packing up my stuff?