Running down 3rd Street, 4AM Barenaked trees I can hardly feel my hands And I start to ponder, What am I running from? Is it the cold that numbs my body Or the fear of feeling nothing at all? Hold on we've got to slow down because We're making a mess of love Hold on, yeah we're movin' to fast You know we're making a mess of love The first snow spent alone in your apartment And the mere thought of comittment sits in the back of my mind Recently the two of us jumped off that train And k**ed the pain that sustained us from what we wished to be but It's so strange The places we go just to escape To feel alive To drive all night We just want to know who we are Who to love and how to stay satisfied