it always makes me warm like sweaters in december,
the words pour out of me...
"i can't believe you're gone".
sometimes i'd like to go to a place,
where no one knows my name.
the frost has found a home,
underneath the bitter cold,
along the river's edge.
i watch the reruns of my life,
like make believe i just pretend i'm fine.
i slowly fall asleep to the sound of yesterday,
for now i know that things won't be alright.
sometimes i'd like to go to a place,
where no one knows my name.
the frost has found a home,
underneath the bitter cold,
along the river's edge.

this is the part of me that i don't like