It's a long, dark, lonely walk
All the way to the living room
And I sure hope that we can talk
When I bring my plea to you
Almost ghostly in I walk
I can barely breathe or talk
It's reflecting in your eyes
That you're far too hurt to cry
There is air left in our lungs
Even when our tongues are sharp
With a bruised and busted heart
We will do all to carry on