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One last drag and we'll go inside nicotine smears on a bitter cold night and we're bathed in the yellow, from the streetlight halo above my head He's filling his breath with half heart lie another walk down the road he walks into the night he tells of what he can't see he's choking, he can't breathe we thought the set-up it was perfect, it was something he could never miss and now he's out on his own and he's... Tripping on his shoes, tripping on his shoes Can't see were he's going Tripping on his shoes, tripping on his shoes and its four in the morning It's what is gone and what is dead The things that I thought but never were said From Letras Mania