I could see the storm brewing, clouds of grey and black.
You\'ve been smoking to your death.
The way you go on and on and pretend that nothing\'s wrong.
Trudged through the flames,
blisters and burns echoing off of your mind.
I\'ve walked through there many times before.
Lay, staring at the ceiling, silence has never felt so empty
The class went by slower today, the clock must have been broken.
I couldn\'t look at the empty chair next to me.
The way you go on and on and pretend that nothing\'s wrong.
I\'ve walked through there many times before.
I couldn\'t look at your empty chair next to me.