Tuesday 3 am
Once again i'm wide awake.
Waiting for time to mend this part of me
that keeps on breaking.
Newpapers I threw away ,
washed the dishes in the sink.
3 Am on tuesday ,
I have too much time to think.
And I could call up to heaven ,
or I could crawl down to hell.
Nothing will change the way things are
and nothing ever will.
He think i can't hear him cry and I pretend that
I DON'T kown,
or about all the 3 Am's he spends wrestling
with your ghost.
I hear him call out to heaven
I watch him crawl down to hell
He still can't get over you,
i konw he never will.
Nothing he says can bring you back
he's get nothing left show
but a pocket watch and memories of a kiss
out in the snow
And I hear him call out to heaven
I watch him crawl down to hell
He still can't get over you,
I kown he never will.
I hear him call out to heaven,
I watch him crawl down to hell
He still can't get over you
I konw you never will
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