Tuesday 3 a.m. Once again I'm wide awake Waiting for time to mend this part of me that keeps on breaking Newpapers I threw away washed the dishes in the sink 3 AM on Tuesday I have too much time to think
And I could call up to heaven or I could crawl down to hell Nothing will change the way things are and nothing ever will
He thinks I can't hear him cry and I pretend that I don't know, or about all the 3 AM's he spends wrestling with your ghost
I hear him call out to heaven I watch him crawl down to Hell He still can't get over you I know he never will
Nothing he says will bring you back He's got nothing left to show But a pocket watch and memories of a kiss out in the snow
And I hear him call out to heaven I watch him crawl down to Hell He still can't get over you I know he never will