I close gently in my hand What I intend to keep And let fall the rest From basements backrooms and these cruel extremes Take these thoughts from my head
In the morning I see clearly That all is wrong And I'm just another going down The perfume from the cut Makes me ache Whiskey clouds thought Drive reason away Your love is as twisted as the world I see And all your touch is apology
In the morning I see clearly That all is wrong And I'm just another going down