I'm writing a book that no one will read
with a cover made of wax...

The world stands still
And the wind holds its breath...

She lands on his doorstep day after day
Looking like a dried-up sponge...

She's playing inside my head
Locking doors so no one gets in...

Don't look back
all these faces...

Each swallow paid
it looked so surreal...

She can finally open her heart.
She's found something in this person...

When every road leads to a dead end
What am I left with...

Hope was once the map
that led the blind man toward his home...

If you gazed into my glass
You'd see its bottom caked with dust...

A fun night out means drinking with your buddies
And not quitting 'till you can't stand up...

It's only in this light
That I see who you are...