Bed of Proses.

xxi.

10:15

A hundred hours after the party,
After I got drunk and told you lately,
And right now, it was still clear to remember,
How these flames turn out to embers,
Remember that second day of November,
With those late night conversations,
And right now, I'm as cold as December,
Building my own dark reputation.

But it was 10:15 that night,
Switches are off to give some light,
Told me it's the wrong time to catch,
She's still hanging on his man,
And it was still 10:15 that night,
I'm gonna let these tears dry,
Cause you're still moving on,
And I can't take it no more longer.