We Were the Victims of Ourselves

When your only friends are hotel rooms, it's hard to be the better man. You said that you could but you don't understand I told you from the start I'm only going to break your heart.

And it's not a cry you can hear at night Now it's just a bar fight I haven't heard a thing you've said In at least a couple hundred days I can see clearly now We were the victims of ourselves Leave the bourbon on the shelf.

As you see there's no one around With your feet in the air and your head on the ground This is the sound This is the art of breaking

You've lost that loving feeling What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreaming Don't try to wake me up I need a doctor Call 911 now.