Ghosts, And The Swing Of Things

I've been staying up nights talking to the floors like some people that I once knew when I wasn't quite so poor.
They let themselves be sad songs. They let themselves be sad songs.
I can't stand the silence, I get off my head, she came to me to unwind and let it out in bed.
She lives her live like sad songs...she lives her live like sad songs.
And so do I.
I've been staying up nights walking through floors, now I can see through her eyes and I don't speak no more.
They treat their lives like sad songs... they treat their lives like sad songs.
And so do I.