Crumble, a feather in my head
You're humble, you'll find the answer
In your place (your place, our fights)
Cold hands (cold hands), whispered plans (whispered plans)
On the edge of morning
She stirs (she stirs), quiet words
Wrapped in endless doubt
I don't wanna be the glasses you break
Nor the things you forget
I don't wanna be (wanna be)
I always have my outside clothes on
Don't turn on the light
You're looking out the window
Isn't that the reason to go outside
Locked eyes, whispered lies
Echoes in the hallway
Faint touch, is it enough
To pull me through the hallway?