You fall asleep on the phone, I stay silent and still

I watch the clouds roll over the hill

Wonder how long before you let me in

To the place by the mountains, covered in snow

The frost on the windows, the cold biting your nose

You need your space, you crave their love

You sleep on the phone, and my hand aches for your touch
I hope you think I matter as much

As the boy in your dreams, soft and frail

Nights like this make me feel like I’m in hell

But hell would be warm, this love makes me cold

I hope we’ll be able to die when we’re old
Sitting in chairs by the fire, hearts full of desire

Grandkids aplenty, stories to tell

Not just a house on the hill, but a love that lasts

And when it’s time, we’ll be the past

A hole in the ground, where we’ll rest side by side

And the gravedigger will fill the void where we once lived our lives