It’s Too Late

There’s ghosts out in the corridors of this broken-down hotel. The place is

full of strangers, and some don’t wish me well. And I wake up with a bottle of

something strong and cheap and a few too many memories I’m trying not to keep.

’Cause we were kept apart by a simple twist of fate. I never knew I wanted you

until it was too late.

 There’s wreckage on the highway and plenty more inside-a load of dirty

laundry with nowhere left to hide. There’s things to keep me going, to keep me

wide awake. There’s more to being on this road than many a soul can take.