You won’t see me hanging around like a long lost friend
With my ear glued to some pay phone calling you up again
Cause I’ve had all of the one last times
I’ll crawl in or out that door
And this pointing finger’s all crooked and worn
And it won’t shift the blame no more
We’re out of pictures to hide the fist holes
Covering this bedroom wall
And I’m out of whiskey and I’m so out of touch
That I don’t give a damn at all
And I’m not sure when our love went south
But it left a long time ago
And left us stranded like a dog in the rain
And we keep diggin up old bones
Oh the words we’ve tossed around
Like a leaf in a storm
Until we broke each others hearts so bad
That we can’t hurt anymore
And what a low down crying shame
The walls we build around our souls
Just to protect ourselves from the ones we love
So we can’t hurt anymore.

Jon Randall