He never thought that she would leave him,
it never crossed his mind.
He thought forever, meant forever,
until the end of time.

How could love that felt so right,
turn out to be so wrong?
She's like the setting sun, when the day is done,
it's going, going, gone.

He pours another shot of whiskey,
tells himself that he won't cry.
But he knows he's much too sober,
to believe that lie.

Had his last drop of courage,
just before the dawn.
Like the setting sun, when the day is done,
it's going, going, gone.

Now she is nothing but a memory,
he's like an empty shell.
Searching for heaven in a bottle,
slowly dying in his hell.

There are no other verses,
to this sad love song.
Like the setting sun, when the day is done,
it's going, going, gone.