Tuesday 3 a.m.
Once again I'm wide awake
Waiting for time to mend this part of me
that keeps on breaking
Newpapers I threw away
washed the dishes in the sink
3 AM on Tuesday
I have too much time to think
And I could call up to heaven
or I could crawl down to hell
Nothing will change the way things are
and nothing ever will
He thinks I can't hear him cry
and I pretend that I don't know, or
about all the 3 AM's he spends wrestling
with your ghost
I hear him call out to heaven
I watch him crawl down to Hell
He still can't get over you
I know he never will
Nothing he says will bring you back
He's got nothing left to show
But a pocket watch and memories of a kiss
out in the snow
And I hear him call out to heaven
I watch him crawl down to Hell
He still can't get over you
I know he never will