What's with January

From the foot of the bed
To the cold Neapolitan sky
To the back of my mind
To the front of this tired disguise
What’s with this moment
What’s with this feeling
What’s with January and the locks on the door
How do I make my escape
How will I find what I’m looking for
From the memory
Of the walk
From the pyramid of cans to the call
From the tender touch of your lips
To the straps slipping off of your hips
What’s with this moment
What’s with this feeling
What’s with January and the locks on the door
How do I make my escape
How will I find what I’m looking for
Hospitals and lobby lust
Truth in all of its disgust
Love was never blind
But I was
Hospitals and lobby lust
Truth in all of its disgust
Love was never blind
But I was
From the paper
To the glue
On them letters written to you
From the start of the affair
The last touch we would share
What’s with this moment
What’s with this feeling
What’s with January and the locks on the door
How do I make my escape
How will I find what I’m looking for
Hospitals and lobby lust
Truth in all of its disgust
Love was never blind
But I was
Hospitals and lobby lust
Truth in all of its disgust
Love was never blind
But I was