I saw you from the bottom of the stairs before you knew i was coming
And though nervous and scared i lingered on
I heard most things break by the ends of these types of nights

So ill force upon every word ive brushed up on
Since knowing we wont speak like this again


You gotta certain who knows what about you
And i gotta small amount of time
To figure out what it is exactly and to whom does it apply

But i know for a fact that these are broken nights
Covered in bottles with the stench of a loss of life
And i know that it's quite heartbreaking we wont speak like this again.