It came on a Thursday
Everything seemed to be holding its breath
It was the first real snow for years
It made everything look beautiful
And I wanted it to stay like this
So bad

I hung like a tongue from my open-mouth window
Thinking I should make the most of this
While it lasts
I climbed to the once familiar hill
Where the rambling roses were sleeping and stared
Down towards the park where you once said

This is the last time
This is the last time
This is the last time
I break your heart

It was full of giant snow balls five feet high
The people had made families played in the snow
It made me feel calm so I stood for awhile
And I listened wishing I could burst into flames
Or disappear or something somehow the sky deepened
And I was soaking wet it had become a blizzard

And through the storm I saw
On the old wall of the old bridge
The new urban prophet inscribed in white
Talking to me through the howling winds
Writers that don't write
End up talking to themselves
And I wanted it to stay like this so bad

This is the last time
This is the last time
This is the last time
I break your heart

This is the last time
This is the last time
This is the last time
I break your heart

The sky, it opened up into a dream
Talking to me through the howling winds
The sky, it opened up into a dream
Talking to me through the howling winds
Talking to me through the howling winds

This is the last time
This is the last time
This is the last time
This is the last time
I break your heart

This is the last time
This is the last time
I break your heart

This is the last time
This is the last time
I break your heart

This is the last time