Verse 1
Visting hours are over
Leave my young, my..., my...
-
You wait by the photograph
On the dusty mantle on the door
One day out of every week
Is never enough time to speak
The words that join this half with yours
A house divided...confused
Only half my heart is used
Not enough...to touch these
But don't stop whining until you're looking for words(?)
You'll find them(?)
Some people...anything that fits(?)
Don't you know there's something ahead
You just keep making do until you're dead
Until you're
Visting hours are over
Leave my young, my... my,...
You wait by the photograph
On the mantle on the door
But don't stop whining until you're looking for words(?)
You'll find them(?)
Some people...anything that fits(?)
Don't you know there's something ahead
You just keep making do until you're dead
Until you're