If I'm honest, I wasn't devastated But you could've held my hands through this, baby Let my mind run underneath warm jets I run my hands through what's left But we're getting older, baby Don’t have much longer, baby Why am I preaching? To this choir, to this atheist Just like mine, versions of these belong to you (Just like mine, versions of these belong to you) After a while, they're keeping me close to you (Just like me) They long to be close to you