Once a friend told me of his experience,
That he had loved somebody and in pain,
He had slit his arm and sent the blood to her
And that he was glad that it was over.

He had talked and made love like an expert,
But I had never seen his soul.
And his eyes had a sort of dead smile
As if he wanted me to believe
That he was still alive.

He was a winter friend to me,
We walked in the snow to chinatown for noodles.

That was many years ago, in another life,
Why do I remember it now?
When I’d heard his story, I’d heard it like a car accident
That I would never be in myself

He was a winter friend to me,
We walked in the snow to chinatown to noodle.

La la la la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la la la
La la la la dee la dee la da
Dee la la la

Now that I see my car slipping down the cliff
And I’m desperately looking for the brake...
Don’t let it happen to me,
Please, don’t let it happen to me,
I’m not ready to die or live a living death,
I’m not ready to die or live a living death,
I’m not ready to die...