Sitting under a gray sky
Wishing I was an artist too
The golden tree you slaved over
The people that I split in two
And the night was cold
And we were clad in black
The picture of us you hated
The days I can't get back, the days I can't get back
The people that I split in two
The people that I split in two
The people that I split in two
The people that I split in two
With so much to [C7]ɾepent for
I will play my [A]hand
As the ɾope gets tight
And it gets hard to [C7]breathe
There is a growing fondness
For everything that I once had
So I will call [Em]your name, so I will call [Em]your name one last time
A growing fondness for [Dm7]you
A growing fondness for [Dm7]you
A growing fondness for [Dm7]you
A growing fondness for [Dm7]you
This is the last song [Am]I write for [Dm7]you
We both know that isn't tɾue
This is the last song [Am]I write for [Dm7]you
We both know that isn't tɾue
