Текст песни 22

Living with the irony of sleeping above a mortuary And as we lay in bed I can see my breath Colder than the dead underneath me Until she goes Weary arms around guts wrenching She said that I am full of it But I'm in love with you much more than me What is normal anyway? Is it normal to be glad at all? So it goes Tuck us in and all turn away Cracks in the windows And no lease or proof Call in on your way back home We're number 22