Dead of winter, desolate grey White and silver home Climb the staircase, spiderwalk Into my bed and bones Can I stand the pain Of all the things I've left behind Caught with butterflies We'll be regretting 'til we die She's walking out on me Darker early, four o'clock We'll leave in a balloon Thirteen crows are dragging You and me up to the roof Blow out all the candles Let the wine flow to your brain No one ages, no one changes No one's trying to