His head was a city of paper buildings
And the echoes that remained of old friends and lovers,
Their features bleeding together in his brain.

And once it started it was harder to tell them apart.
He was always distrated by the very mention of an open door
'Cause he had sworn not to be what he'd been before;
To be a remainder.

The television was snowing softly
As she hunted for her keys.
She said she never envisoned him the type of person capable of such deceit.

And they carried on like long division.
As it was clear with every page they were further away
From the solution that would play without a remainder.

And he had sworn not to be what he'd been before;
To be the remainder.
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Thanks to (Mariah) for correcting these lyrics. May 13, 2008