It’s the tearing sound of love-notes
Casting out the gray stained windows
And the view outside is sterile
And I’m only two cubes down
I’ll photocopy all the things that we could be
If you took the time to notice me
But you can’t now, I don’t blame you
And it’s not your fault that no one ever does
But you don’t work here anymore
It’s just a vacant 3 by 4
And they might fill your place
A temporary stand-in for your face
This happens all the time
And I can’t help but think I’ll die alone
So I’ll spend my time with strangers
A condition that is terminal
In this water-cooler romance
And its coming to a close
We could be in the park and dancing by a tree
Kicking over blades we see
Or a dark beach with a black view
As pin-pricks in the velvet catch our fall
But you don’t work here anymore
It’s just a vacant 3 by 4
And they might fill your place
A temporary stand-in for your face
It happens all the time
And I can’t help but think I’ll die alone
I know you don’t work here anymore, I know you don’t work here anymore
I know you don’t work here anymore, I know you don’t work here anymore
I know you don’t work here anymore, I know you don’t work here anymore
Sometimes I think I’ll die alone, sometimes I think I’ll die alone
Sometimes I think I’ll die alone, live and breathe and die alone
Sometimes I think I’ll die alone, sometimes I think I’ll die alone
Sometimes I think I’ll die alone, I’d think I’d love to die alone
I think I’d love to die alone