Back to the bottle there she goes,
ack to the spot that hurts the most...

Your love is my passion,
my desire,my faith...

I walk in the door I stop and stare,
I see the bottle falling from her hand...

The wind blowing through my hair,
As i look at the sharp rocks beneath...

...
Pretending...

I saw you look at me,
I saw the expression on your face...