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