Dark And Mad

Why is this window so dirty and gray?
I can't see you through it anymore.
It may be the smoke, it's hard to say;
The fact is, this place has too many doors.
I can't find a handle on any of them;
Well, maybe I see one, but I don't want to turn it.
What if I did, and it opened on him?
Ain't truth a bitch when you have to learn it?
Before a heart breaks, it has to bend --
It's the last one to know when love comes to an end.
And here you sit crazy, lonesome and sad,
Watching me dark and mad,
Watching me dark and mad.
This cigarette burns like the pain in my soul:
When the fire gets too hot, the ash turns to coal.
The smoke tells a story that's sad, but it's true:
It turns into a ghost that looks just like you.
I close my eyes, and I silently scream --
My mind comes and goes, it drifts and it dreams.
The cold hand of death is welcome and warm;
It's the essence of love in its darkest form.
Before a heart breaks, it has to bend --
It's the last one to know when love comes to an end.
And here you sit crazy, lonesome and sad,
Watching me dark and mad,
Watching me dark and mad,
Watching me dark... and mad.