One, two, three, four See the sun kiss the night goodbye I'm in no shape to moderate I'm in love with the blackened sky It hides all my friendly mistakes Tonight I know I am dancing alone through the past Whose perfume is stinging my lungs? Better last Not on the phone, not on a passing plane It's hard to be on your own Lord, I know in October I can't win I'm sober and I can't win Last night was just another one It's hard to differentiate I'm not crying, not awake yeah But who will listen anyway? I'm learning to crawl on my own to me Hearing you talking some distant dream Not on the wire, not on the edge of a night It's hard to admit it sometimes October I can't win October I can't win I'm sober and I can't win October I can't win October I can't win Ripping ties the hands that give, with constant need to grow The girl now sings the song I wrote For you between shells of art nouveau