Back alleys are so dark at twelve and one oâ€™clock, Iâ€™m empty handed with only a glass but no I won't drink. it's seven-thirty again Iâ€™m dreaming that I had a life instead Iâ€™ll sit here on the edge of my bed singing stupid love songs that don't ever end. I don't want to hate you. I wish that I could love you. instead Iâ€™ll wallow in misery and dance to the rhymes of your sweet nurseries, well Iâ€™ve tried begging down your stone cold eyes but I should have known that Iâ€™d look to far from what's inside of your heart.