Mary, this station is playing every sad song.
I remember like we were alive.
I heard it Sunday morn' from inside of these walls.
In a prison cell, where we spent those nights.
And they burnt up the diner where I always used to find her.
Licking young boys blood from her claws.
And I learned about the blues from this kitten I knew.
Her hair was rabid and her heart was like a tomb.
My heart's like a wound.
I saw daylights last night and I dreamed about my first wife.
Everybody leaves and I'd expect as much from you.
I saw daylights last night and I dreamed about my whole life.
Everybody leaves, so why, why wouldn't you?
Mary, I worried and stalled every night of my life.
Better safe than making the party.
And I never had a good time, I sat my bedside, with papers and poetry about Astella.
Great expectations, we had the greatest expectations.
It's funny how the night moves.
Humming a song from 1962.
We were always waiting... always waiting.
We were always waiting for something to happen.