You said, there's something in my head
Since we first met that I just can't forget
What's next? Or should I say what's left?
There's distance and regret so forgive me if I forget
But I'm still working it out
I said I would do it by now
If you turn around
You'll hit the cold hard running ground
Hit the cold hard running round
Hit the cold hard running ground
Hit the cold hard running ground
You said, there's nothing here but dread
This year I might be blessed so I'll hold on to better days
Instead, write a poem about death
Hide it right under the bed to never read it again
But I'm still working it out
I said I would do it by now
If you turn around
You'll hit the cold hard running ground
Hit the cold hard running round
Hit the cold hard running ground
Hit the cold hard running ground
You'll hit the cold hard running ground