Why do you always have to get up and leave
Do you think you have better judgement than me
If you always stay up this late, than what's a little more
Before I say it, you already walking out the door
And you drink the river dry
You suck the color from the sky
And you paint it all red
With the color from your fingertips
The diner off the highway is always poorly lit
The coffee is burnt and there is never enough of it
Under the table like a trench, just swearing to God
That you're gunna make it home, you won't get caught
But then you leave it, you leave it, you let it rot.
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