It came on a Thursday Everything seemed to be holding its breath It was the first real snow for years It made everything look beautiful And I wanted it to stay like this So bad
I hung like a tongue from my open-mouth window Thinking I should make the most of this While it lasts I climbed to the once familiar hill Where the rambling roses were sleeping and stared Down towards the park where you once said
This is the last time This is the last time This is the last time I break your heart
It was full of giant snow balls Five feet high The people had made Families played in the snow It made me feel calm So I stood for awhile And I listened Wishing I could burst into flames Or disappear or something Somehow the sky deepened And I was soaking wet It had become a blizzard
And through the storm I saw On the old wall of the old bridge The New Urban Prophet inscribed in white Talking to me through the howling winds Writers that don't write End up talking to themselves
And I wanted it to stay like this so bad
This is the last time This is the last time This is the last time I break your heart
This is the last time This is the last time This is the last time I break your heart
The sky, it opened up into a dream Talking to me through the howling winds The sky, it opened up into a dream Talking to me through the howling winds Talking to me through the howling winds
This is the last time This is the last time
This is the last time This is the last time I break your heart
This is the last time This is the last time I break your heart
This is the last time This is the last time I break your heart