There was a thought process that I can't quite recall
When I was drunk beyond repair and barely standing strong at all
I'd grown accustomed to the curbside by your house
But that's no excuse for the concrete feeling that I'm feeling now
I've got a catalogue of things I've felt at 2am
But now I'm looking for the sense in all the things I wish I'd said
I used to know this old town like the back of my hand
But now I can't see past my nose
So I'm falling
Following a road that's led me to
Your white light paper door
And a cardboard fire deck
It's a sign that I never saw
You're out of line, I know for sure
But you're still here on my back
And there's not a damn thing I can do
About now
I left a message but you can't have found it still
Because I haven't heard a thing
And I don't think I ever will
And on the journey home it came from out the blue
There was a thought process but it's not like I'd ever thought it through
I used to know this old town like the back of my hand
But now I can't see past my nose
So I'm following a road that's led me to
Your white light paper door
And a cardboard fire deck
It's a sign that I never saw
You're out of line, I know for sure
But you're still here on my back
And a cardboard fire deck
It's a sign that I never saw
You're out of line, I know for sure

And I don't think I ever will
But you're still here on my back