Besedila: Elliott Smith. Roman Candle. Last Call.

Last call, he was sick of it all, asleep at home
Told you off and goodbye
Well, you know one day it'll come to haunt you
That you didn't tell him quite the truth

You're a crisis, you're an icicle
You're a tongueless talker, you don't care what you say
You're a jaywalker and you just, just walk away
And that's all you do

The clap of the fading out sound of your shoes
Made him wonder who he thought that he knew

Last call, he was sick of it all
The endless stream of reminders
Made him so sick of you, sick of you, sick of you
Sick for your sound, sick of you coming around

Trying to crawl under my skin
When I've already shed my best defense
It comes out all around that you won
And I think I'm all done, you can switch me off safely
While I'm lying here waiting for sleep to overtake me

Yeah, yeah, yeah yeah
You're still here but just check to make sure
All you aspired to do was endure
You can't ask for more, ask for more
Knowing you'll never get that which you ask for

So you cast your shadow everywhere
Like the man in the moon

When you start to drink you just want to continue
It'll all be yesteryear soon
You start to drink you just want to continue
It'll all be yesteryear soon

Church bells and now I'm awake
And I guess it must be some kind of holiday
I can't seem to join in the celebration

But I'll go to the service and I'll go to pray
And I'll sing the praises of my Makers name
Like I was as good as she made me
And I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me

I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me

I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I'm lying here waiting for sleep to overtake me