it always makes me warm like sweaters in december,   the words pour out of me...   "i can't believe you're gone".   sometimes i'd like to go to a place,   where no one knows my name.   the frost has found a home,   underneath the bitter cold,   along the river's edge.   i watch the reruns of my life,   like make believe i just pretend i'm fine.   i slowly fall asleep to the sound of yesterday,   for now i know that things won't be alright.   sometimes i'd like to go to a place,   where no one knows my name.   the frost has found a home,   underneath the bitter cold,   along the river's edge.      this is the part of me that i don't like