I found your photograph
in a cardboard box in a magazine.
I can't remember you,
remember us, or anything
that taught you how to feel,
but you just feel numb.
They
taught you how to feel,
but you just feel numb.
She
comes apart in the avalanche,
fades out like a dance,
and crawls back into bed.
When it's over,
when it's over,
when it's over,
it's over.
I
watch the window
and
listen for
the sound of cars.
I can't remember the
last time that
it
was yours that taught you how to feel,
but you
just feel numb.
They taught
us how
to feel,
but we just feel numb.
She falls apart in the avalanche,
fades out like a
dance,
and crawls back
into bed.
When it's over,
when it's over,
when it's over,
it's
over.
She falls apart in the avalanche,
fades out like a dance,
and crawls back into bed.
When it's over,
it's over,
it's over.