Testo Separate Bedrooms

You say that you've been better
But I only hear you crying now
In the middle of the night when you're asleep inside that empty house
Where pictures hang, to serve as reminders of memories from years ago.

A vacation you took, with an old boyfriend to the west coast
But it was to hard, and it was too hard to be comfortable
In the black hills in June, at the foot of that indian statue Carved into the side of a mountain you paid all that money to see.

And all that you saw was some rock but it made you feel grateful to be
You bought a post card, with its picture on it
And you're gonna send it, back home to your family.

You say that you're still angry you just hate the thought of fighting now
And a heart can only hate someone so much before it burns out
Like cigarettes, that get pressed against the cold glass of an ash tray
Well at first he felt good, but then he made you nauseous everyday.

But it was to hard, and it was too hard to be comfortable
In that miserable house that you did your best to make feel like my home
And after the arguments you'd go to different bedrooms to sleep
But all by yourself in the dark you couldn't help feeling grateful to be.
And you found the post card, with that one picture on it
That you never sent but instead kept it taped in an old diary.