It's a long, dark, lonely walk

All the way to the living room

And I sure hope that we can talk

When I bring my plea to you

Almost ghostly in I walk

I can barely breathe or talk

It's reflecting in your eyes

That you're far too hurt to cry

There is air left in our lungs

Even when our tongues are sharp

With a bruised and busted heart

We will do all to carry on