Waiting on a Sunday afternoon for what I read between the lines(your lies)feelin' like a hand in rusted shame,so do you laugh or does it cry? reply?
leavin' on a southern train only yesterday you lied, promises of what I seemed to be
only watched the time go by, all of these things you said to me.
breathing is the hardest thing to do. with all I've said and all that is dead for you,

you lied = good bye