The days come
The nights turn...

I am the bricks
And you are my mortor...

I'm dreaming
Of a white picket fence...

Standing in the open air
Leaning against my car...

Our Love
Is a tree...

She sits at the table
Slowly Sips her drink...

Open your eyes
See what's left...

Falling into the Darkness
Never ceasing Blackness...

You left me standing there
Like a fool with flowers in his hands...

How do you presume to live?
With the whole world set against you...

The rain gently drips
From the tree that we're under...

Goodbye good friend
It's been fun...