It kills me to think of it

How I'll always want her

To see these things with me

But we'll keep drifting away

Mist of the Pacific

Will keep feeding my grass

Casting shadows on my house

And I'll keep losing my head

I'd like to run through

But I don't know how

I'd like to see your face

But I can't open my mouth

I hate the pictures on the wall

Tear them down, tear them down

I hate the pictures on the wall

Tear them down, tear them down