Montauk - Bayside

It’s getting cold

Thought it was too soon to tell

But it was terribly old

And as the heartbeat slows

To a heartless crawl

The lights went out

The lights went out

And darkness filled the house

On a tiring night under Long Island sky

I thought I’d known the consequence

Sweetness, can you believe this?

Mess we’ve made of it

This mess we’ve made of it

In years to come, ​it might make sense

Sweetness, can you believe this?

So what’s become of it?

What’s become of it?

If you hear this and you think you’re ready

Then meet me at Montauk

Where we’ll write out in the sand

«Here lies the destiny of 2 hurt souls

Afraid to be cured again.»

That could be our epitaph

I thought I’d known the consequence

Sweetness, can you believe this?

Mess we’ve made of it

This mess we’ve made of it

In years to come, it might make sense

Sweetness, can you believe this?

So what’s become of it?

What’s become of it?

I thought I’d known the consequence

Sweetness, can you believe this?

Mess we’ve made of it

This mess we’ve made of it

In years to come, it might make sense

Sweetness, can you believe this?

So what’s become of it?

What’s become of it?

I know

I thought I’d know the consequence

Sweetness, can you believe this?

Mess we’ve made of it

Mess we’ve made of it

In years to come, it might make sense

Sweetness, did you foresee this?

So what’s become of it?

Just what’s become