You can't point it out, it's as vague as a rising moon

Whispering, fading through

You can act out scenes, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

All My Sons, Sweet Bird of Youth

What's nebulous? What's in the grave?

No one's thinking about us, babe

If you can sway the illusion that you crave

You could cross the line, you tell it like it is

And you'll suffocate every sight that's rife

With a jet-black, big sky, emptiest night

I won't call you, I won't lie, and I know I will be just fine

You can cloak a sigh, but I'm all out of breath, saying my goodbyes

We may fall back into fiction, know I always do

Make stale of me, no one's immune

I'm an anecdote you hopelessly consume

No love lost, no love doomed

And it's a mess, you begged me not

To leave this sentimental rot

I'm casual, I'm not crying or asking for a lot

You could cross the line, you tell it like it is

And you'll suffocate every sight that's rife

With a jet-black, big sky, emptiest night

I won't call you, I won't lie, and I know I will be just fine

You can cloak a sigh, but I'm all out of breath, saying my goodbyes