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