The long hands of mem’ry are strangling my mind,
reachin’ out past the face to which my love was assigned.
When I go out in the evening to see what it is I can find
I’m haunted by the things we said.

When morning light lies beside me in my bed
I’ve got to turn myself over and shake out my head
because the whole scene reminds me of the day we wed
and of the life from which we resigned.

Like a sharp shaft of glass, we tore through the years,
only to end drowning in each other’s tears.
But the past’s so much closer than it appears,
and if you look too long you’ll go mad.

To say I never loved you’s to fall in line with a fad.
But to ignore what I feel now is just more weight I can’t add.
So I look down at the ashes, dust off what we had,
and stifle my rising fears.