I'm sure this silence means nothing

Just like all the ones before

It's the weeks before christmas

And our lives go on

And we're just to busy to call

But I can't help myself

When love is on the line

I have to worry overtime

Until the love's no more

And nothing is left

But dreams of hate and ruin

And I'm here alone,

Just as I planned

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

So much good

There must be bad

Knocking at my door

Then again

I have no job

So maybe now I'm finally poor.