Cold hands and always the last to know.
Long drives and shadows that follow you home.
Too late to find a light on, the TV's glow.
Dark hallways and a place that you shouldn't go,
And so, you go.
Alcohol, alcohol.
Take your seats.
Hold your breath until the morning.
Bar the door.
It's happening now.
I sleep on the floor, seeping into the floorboards,
Up the walls, and into the ceiling.
I'm watching the house from every angle now.
I'm watching you sleep so tenderly.
A broken skylight,
A kicked-in door,
All signs that you were here.
A blackened eye.
You're a big man.
You're a big man.
You're such a big man.
Thirty odd years and all I can do is grind my teeth at the memory of you.
A long long drive, longer than before.
Hallelujah, you never looked back.
I never look back.