The Last Lie I Told

The Last Lie I Told
I'm in a parking lot by myself
It's quarter to nine and I've been here since 5:45
Oh, there's no one but I can see some flickering lights
I can hear some dogs barking in the back yards
And I smell gasoline
I wish the sky were open 'cause if there weren't those trees

I think I could see for miles
The city is just beyond those clouds
I guess this is what it's like to be really down
And holding out for something
Remembering the warm nights
Remembering the open arms of two years ago
Oh there's nothing like this parking lot
And seeing the stars in morning
'Cause I can see them from where I'm lying
I can feel the cold pavement against my skin
It's tingling.