The I.V. and your hospital bed,
And your chest ceases its movements.
I will not kiss you, 'cause the hardest part of this is leaving you.
If there were any way, I could think to turn back time, I'd stay here with you,
And though you're dead and gone believe me, your memory will carry on.
I still hear you in this house, I still feel you in my bones.
Try to numb the pain, with alcohol and pills,
This sick strange darkness, comes creeping on so haunting every time.
I guess that I knew it, I can't make it through it.
Now there's nothing to do but tear my voice apart, nothing to do, and scream at the drunken moon.