ingrid michaelson – the chain 0

The sky looks pissed.
The wind talks back.
The bones are shifting in my skin
and you my love are gone.

My room seems wrong.
The bed wont fit.
I can not seem to operate
and you my love are gone.

(chorus)So glide away on soapy heels and promise not to promise anymore and if you come around again then i will take, the chain from off the door.

i'll never say, i'll never love.
but i dont say alot of things
and you my love are gone.