It’s too late, tonight, to say that it’s over.
Too wrong, for too long, to start acting sober.
Who knows which came first, the pain or the thirst,
The shame or the curse?
This thing can’t end soon enough.

One night, high flight, as high as wings could take us,
Each day, we pay, the memory remade us.
Which was the first to go, the flame or the glow,
The truth or the show?
This thing can’t end soon enough.

You say, you pray, every now and then.
Daybreak, we wake, the demon’s back again.
When will we finally start, to take these two stone hearts,
And finally break them apart?
This thing can’t end soon enough.