All Sweet Things - No-Man

The run-down streets, the civil wars

You don’t go there anymore —

It’s how you used to live

The trampled hopes, the made-up laws

The itchy feet, the pub quiz bores —

It’s so hard to forgive

Weekend slimmers count their chains

Still wanting someone else to blame

You watch them come and go

Empty nightclub escapades

They tell you more than words can say —

That open doors get closed

The empty rooms, the empty house

Someday soon, you’ll work it out —

Still finding the way back home

The schoolyard ghosts, the playtime fears

You take your pills, they disappear —

The people that you’ve known

All sweet things

All sweet things will come again

When the heartbeat slows

When the silence grows