22 Lyrics

Living with the irony of sleeping above a mortuary

And as we lay in bed I can see my breath

Colder than the dead underneath me



Until she goes

Weary arms around guts wrenching

She said that I am full of it

But I'm in love with you much more than me



What is normal anyway?

Is it normal to be glad at all?

So it goes...

Tuck us in and all turn away



Cracks in the windows

And no lease or proof

Call in on your way back home

We're number 22