From my home it's 115 steps to your gravesite.
I know this cause I go to relieve,
Myself there every night.
The face I once remembered,
Now is starting to slowly fade.
A perfect death for you,
Lying amongst your own decay.
You looked into my eyes,
This is what you said,
"Cross my heart, hope to die,
You won't leave my side."
My cross-town drama scene,
Backdrop painted with my own tears.
Now your untimely death,
Began to bring out my own worst fears.
I was there the night the cold air,
Turned your last breath into fog.
All those promises you once made,
Now just shattered and broken.
You looked into my eyes,
This is what you said,
"Cross my heart, hope to die,
You won't leave my side."
I have the brains to pick the lock,
On the door you slammed in my face.
I have the brains to pick the lock,
On the door you slammed in my face.
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