So, guess I got old,
I was like trash on the sidewalk.
I guess I knew why.
Often, it's hard to just sweet-talk.
I was old news to you then,
old news, old news to you then.
You, you were like glue
holding each of us together.
I slept through July
while you made lines in the heather.
I was old news to you then,
old news, old news to you then.
Fell for the ruse with you then,
old news, old news to you then.
And I still see you when I try to sleep.
I see the garden, the tower, the street.
Call out to nobody, call out to me,
chip on the shoulder, the diamond, the teeth.
Now I can see how
we were like dust on the window.
Not much, not a lot,
everything's stolen or borrowed.
I was old news to you then,
old news, old news to you then.