my apathy doesn’t apeal to you as much as i’d expectreflections of my former self remind me of times, we’d swing the night awaymy hearts been drained,and it’s beginning to stain the tub.whoa, don’t i wish for a fresh startwe could run tocolorado, wake up to the mountain airi’d write your name in the stars and tell you that i’m hopelessexplain the 9-digit nights, asking if you’re homewhoa, operator your voiceisn’t so soothing afterall, ive learned not to care »mike, wont you hold me one last time,enjoy this postcardesque viewbackdrop to our hearts’wish you were here’the sky just seems to ordinary,the noisy streets shatter the silencethat helps me dream of you »well i miss you too.