I will be honest, I wasn't devastated
But you could've held my hand through this, baby
Let my mind run underneath warm jets

I run my hands through what's left
But we're getting older, baby
Don't have much longer baby
Why am I preaching?
To this choir, to this atheist
Just like mine version of these belong to you

After while
They're keeping me close to you

(Just like me, they long to be)
(Close to you)

Composição: Buddy Ross