I always get sentimental,
I think of what we where and what we had,
It was like the warm you feel in fall.
I think of it and only see black,
The mascara and eyeliner turned my tears to night,
As I slowly realised you weren't coming back.
I wish we could be one again,
But what we had could never last and we both knew that truth,
So I just sit and think of our little den.
