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The Way It Used To Be

City And Colour

This is the story of a man
Who took for granted everything he had.
How he let it all just slip away,
Never to return again.

Now 20 years have come and gone,
And still he wonders what he did so wrong.
And how that he can win back her heart,
And finally step outside of the dark.

He buys fresh roses every day,
Her favorite flowers, so she used to say.
And now the memories are all that he has left.
And I'm afraid he'll drink himself to death

This is the story of a man
Who took for granted everything he had.
How he let it all just slip away,
Never to return again.

It's clear she's moved on long ago,
But he still clings on to a distant hope.
That she'll come back and make that happy home,
For now it's him and the bottle all alone.

Sometimes you'll see him in the yard;
A wounded man with a desperate heart.
He keeps the hedges trimmed nice and neat,
To keep them lower than they used to be.

This is the story of a man
Who took for granted everything he had.
How he let it all just slip away,
Never to return again.

The single dress hangs on its own
The scent of perfume, all he has to hold.
A wasted life waiting on a dream
Hoping for things the way they used to be.

This is the story of a man
Who took for granted everything he had.
How he let it all just slip away,
Never to return again.

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