..

There’s still a little bit of your taste in my mouth.
There’s still a little bit of you laced with my doubt.
It’s still a little hard to say what's going on.


There’s still a little bit of your ghost your witness.
There’s still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed.
You step a little closer each day
that I can't say what's going on.

Stones taught me to fly.
Love, it taught me to lie.
Life, it taught me to die.
So it's not hard to fall,
when you float like a cannonball.