I was walking home to my house through the snow from the station
When the Springsteen came clear in my headphones with a pertinent question:
Oh is love really real and can any of us hope for redemption
Or are we all merely biding our time down to lonely conclusions?
Darling, let me take your hand as I talk you through this
How loneliness edged into deep seated psychosis
Lying awake in crowded hotel rooms focused on tape hiss
With my feelings laid clear on the ceiling, I don't think I can do this
I don’t think I can do this

Well, I tried so hard to not turn into my father
But if I only ever skip out his choices will I ever choose better?
The sad truth is, the grass, it will always seem greener
So, I left you alone in a restaurant in London in winter
You deserved better

Adam Trask
Is on my back
And in my ears
And the sound comes clear and brings the awful truth
That I can't stand what I've done to you
And it’s written clear in my diary
Today should have been our anniversary
And I'm far way and I'm far apart
And you're back home with a broken heart
And love is real and I can't escape
I only ever have myself to blame
These failures shift and shake me in the night, oh
Like a fever I can't break, try as I might
Wake me, darling, I need you to take me home
But I know, in the end, redemption is mine and mine alone

So, if each of us is made up of a tally of mistakes and successes
Then my hour in that restaurant makes my score less than impressive
Oh, but each can be redeemed with the courage with which he confesses
So, darling, I miss you, your music and your musk and your kisses
I don't think I can do this