Each bloodstained tear that has fallen at the failed prospect
Of one last reconciled day with you
Crawls through my malignant skin
As the thought drowns me thoroughly through

I'd hope to find you when the leaves on the trees are orange and red
And the sky is golden at dusk
Where cool, crisp air fills us with the ability to forget
And forgiveness (and Jack) sit on the tips of our tongues

You'd probably pick up your old, acoustic guitar
And I'd light a Marlboro cigarette
We'd sing until those scars on our hearts...