Persistent Receipt

(hmmm-hmmm) Two AM on the avenue

Asking directions from a face I never knew

Crowded kitchen but the party is dead I keep the receipt for

the words that you said

Hanging on the wall,

a raincoat that never dried Nowhere left to run,

nowhere left to hide

Oh,

we hold onto the papers that we burn

At the point of no return (ahhh)

Standing in the cold of a crowded room

Watching the shadows consume

And the wet yellow coat on the wooden door

Reminds me of what we keep keeping receipts for

It never dried...