I stood in the doorway staring blindly.
I knew you were going to be the death of me.
There's no medicine that could cure me right now.
I don't want you to see me this way.
Air is growing colder.
Days are getting heavier.
Minutes turn to hours.
Hours turn to days.
Days turn to years.
How much time do I really have?
Do I really care to know?
What if I could have changed?
Would things be different?
No matter what you got you want it.
I was thrown was I deserve.
We were lonesome, time spent well
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