I drove through Berlin tonight.
Straight shot down the highway and through my chest.
And I thought about missing you and the meaning of the word futile.
I walked around this rainy college campus
On a Sunday for three hours.
And I thought about home and how you wouldn't be there.
And I thought of me and how you just don't care.
But I could swear I saw your reflection
In the puddle of rain on the concrete.
You were standing next to me and your lips were on my cheek.
And I can swear I feel the dissection
Of the whole me when you leave.
And I've grown to hate this connection
This connection that I weave
This connection that I weave
I drowned you in alcohol last night.
But you poked air holes through my chest.
You fought hard to maintain your place in my heart and on my mind.
But I could swear I saw your reflection
In the puddle of rain on the concrete.
You were standing next to me and your lips were on my cheek.
And I can swear I feel the dissection
Of the whole me when you leave.
And I've grown to hate this connection
This connection that I weave
Connections wearing thin
Connections wearing thin
But I could swear I saw your reflection
In the puddle of rain on the concrete.
You were standing next to me and your lips were on my cheek.
And I can swear I feel the dissection
Of the whole me when you leave.
And I've grown to hate this connection...
I don't remember anything after that.
