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On the night you came in, I wasnât sleeping.
I felt the âwaiting room tensionâ when I asked you where youâd been.
You said âthe hardest part of growing up is not knowing where youâre growing toâ.
So then you had a couple more drinks and I began to mirror you.
You wonât see Christmas if you carry on this way, just know itâs ok that you donât feel ok.
On the night you came in I was the ceiling youâd confide to in your bedroom on your lonesome nights in.
It was the late hours of the night, you were still in early hours of mourning.
No it was not raining outside, but in your kitchen it was pouring.
You wonât see Christmas if you carry on this way, know itâs ok that you donât feel ok.
As your heavy heart stumbles on ice, Iâll be your amateur shrink for just another night.
Bloodshot eyed, you asked me why girls only seemed to like the others.
A domino effect, you introspect.
I said âthe kind of girls you like only like the boys, who they wouldnât want to take home to meet their mothers.â
- Álbum:
- Midnight Mass