Sunday night, have a good cry

Wipe my eye, as the light died

I can't help but see your eyes from here

But I, a thousand miles away

And years ago

This time I tell 'em white lies

Walk my eyes, say I'm alright

I can't help but see your eyes from here

But I, a thousand miles away

And years ago

She said, "Don't try; figure it out

You won't find me thinking about you

Know that we're both better off this way

And I guess I won't make a sound

You won't find me crying about you

Know that there's just nothing else to say."

(Don't try; figure it out

You won't find me thinking about you

Know that we're both better off this way

And I guess I won't make a sound

You won't find me crying about you

Know that there's just nothing else to say.)

I can't help but see your eyes from here

But I, a thousand miles away

And years ago