Fail mary - The grand scheme

In the grand scheme
There is no theme
There is nothing but chaos
In the backyard
We've found so far
There is nothing that can hurt us

Out the window
There are no payphones
There is no cell reception
In the evening
I play a simple thing
And I sing of loneliness

Without you here
I don't know what to do
With myself
With myself

Without you here
I don't know what to do
With myself
With myself

In the backseat
We have no privacy
We have no business being there
That stupid phone call
Those stupid words
Well, now you know that I'm a coward

Without you here
I don't know what to do
With myself
With myself


Without you here
I don't know what to do
With myself
With myself

Tears of sadness
Tears of joy
What's it matter anymore?
It all amounts
To the same thing
A pillow drenched, a broken wing

Without you here
I don't know what to do
With myself
With myself

Without you here
I don't know what to do
With myself
With myself

Without you here
I don't know what to do
With myself
With myself

Without you here
I don't know what to do
With myself
With myself

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