A hint of bottom in the low
like a beacon in the snow
and the tunnel seem much shorter than before
when it was all downhill from here
So walz back to the playground now
Where they loved you for the little ink-
revolver on your forearm, for the fact that you are
always gone, when morning comes
A little dancing in the drain
to keep the past in place
you were saving number while forgetting names
when it was all downhill from here
So walz back to the playground now
Where they loved you for the little ink-
revolver on your forearm, for the fact that
you are always gone, when morning comes
So walz home from the playground now
Where they loved you for the hint of
emptiness in your eyes
When it was all downhill from here

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