The sky looks pissed.
The wind talks back.
My bones are shifting in my skin and you my love are gone.
My room seems wrong.
The bed won't fit.
I can not seem to operate and you my love are gone
So glide away and so be healed and promise not to promise anymore and if you come around again then i will take, then i will take the chain from off the door
I'll never say, I'll never love
but I dont say a lot of things and you my love are gone
*the chain is a song by Ingrid Michaelson