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God believes in you alone; |
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morning comes, he displays your life in songs. |
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Most of them about love, |
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some of them about pain, |
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come the night and both feel the same thing. |
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God believes in something that you are, |
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what it is you need to realize yet. |
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So when we meet again, |
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you may know where we stand, |
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going up and down means the same thing. |
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And it'll be hard not to remember |
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the bitter taste of old goodbyes. |
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As you complain about the weather |
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because it's been raining forever |
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and you're afraid to catch a cold. |
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What I do is mostly straight time, |
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I've stopped fighting delusions in my heart. |
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Since you're gone sharp moves are dull |
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Oh, it gets so numb and so old. |
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And God doesn't care anymore, |
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If we are giving up, what's the point. |
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If you're ever to come back |
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you might as well come back now |
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and we'll find a way to make it good somehow. |
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But it'll be hard not to remember |
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the bitter taste of old goodbyes |
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As you complain about the weather |
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because it's been raining forever |
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and you're afraid to catch a cold |
