Trace a Line

Trace a line Down my arm Trace a line Down You'll be the end of me You'll be the end of me No one's here And nothing's new Trace a line From me to you You'll be the end of me You'll be the end of me Getting drunk in taxicabs And writing names on backs of hands And figuring how to get to you We're making room for alibis When something tells me telling lies Is only ever trying to be true Will we never ever learn That things could go from bad to worse And worst of all we'd love it if they did Knowing what you said to me Beneath your breath so blatantly Be careful now We're camping in a corner of the room You'll be the end of me You'll be the end of me