From the Album: Didn't Feel A Thing
The handset of the phone still has your breath
The last thing that was sworn before she left
Kept a small apartment just in case
Full of large regrets and stomach aches
Move along 'cos you've been there
Move along with your grin bare
Sounding vague and low beneath the din
Of a hundred f*cked up voices from within
Counting down to one from thirteen days
Your comfort factor's gone arid left a haze
My anchor is set your senses are thrown