The streets are soked in the same stale liquor and there's a cloud of doubt in my mind. I thought I saw a friend I'd figured for a while that I wouldn't find. With the golden glow of the distant city. you were just a silhouette: As the street lights flickered like shining mirrors I called out, but you'd already left - You'd already left.
As my thoughts collide, there's no silver lining and it's raining doubt in my mind. Then my thoughts divide into tiny pieces and I keep them safely inside. Cos tragedy is the same stale liquor, god - it tastes like home. You were just a silhouette: I figured I probably should have known - I should've known.