"Every time you die, your friends forget you a little more."
How can someone dream when they're never even sleeping?
Staring out the window, staring at the ceiling
I hope that you'd still want me. I hope that you'd come haunt me
And the longer that I stay makes it harder just to say
There's things we've got inside us
There's things that reunite us
So don't look past my shoulder when I hold you even closer
How can someone dream when they're never even sleeping?
Staring out the window, staring at the ceiling