distance makes the heart grow weak

i've stopped listening when you speak

i can't even hear myself think anymore

phone call wakes the drunkard sleep

it's your voice, we don't agree

i've been trying to make some sense out of this mess

counting cars on collins st

and we'll set our watches to the beating of the city

and it's cold so we'll agree

to run all the way back to your house now you run backwards

morning bells to wake the dead

now there's static in my head

i don't look to see the daggers i know you have in your eyes

and after all our time's been spent

with these ghosts they're all hell bent

i've been trying to make some sense out of this mess we've made

counting cars on collins st

and we'll set our watches,
we will set our watches to the beating of the city

and it's cold so we'll agree

to run all the way back to your house now you run backwards

come follow me, don't look backwards, you will find your way home after...