Trace a line   Down my arm   Trace a line   Down      You'll be the end of me   You'll be the end of me      No one's here   And nothing's new   Trace a line   From me to you      You'll be the end of me   You'll be the end of me      Getting drunk in taxicabs   And writing names on backs of hands   And figuring how to get to you      We're making room for alibis   When something tells me telling lies   Is only ever trying to be true   Will we never ever learn   That things could go from bad to worse   And worst of all we'd love it if they did      Knowing what you said to me   Beneath your breath so blatantly   Be careful now   We're camping in the corner of the room      You'll be the end of me   You'll be the end of me