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 killed 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