Where did I go wrong?
Was it when burnt rubber filled the cold morning air?
Or was it laid against you with your fingers lost in my knotted hair?

Where did you go wrong?
That's something only the universe knows.
Broken, twisted, beautiful--that's how the heart grows.

Ask again: Where did you go wrong?
The answer is in the breeze.
The answers are in the trees.
The answer is not you, but me.

Where did we go wrong?
We watered the weeds growing in our flowerbeds.
We simply left the stove on, and the house burnt red.
We danced in the streets, only to be dead.

Tell me—
Was our love wrong?