Empire State - Paws

I’ve got a writer’s block the size of the Empire State

A good sentiment always comes too late

Drives me out of my mind to see us drinking in the same bars

In The Bowery, East Village, the Lower East Side

But not at the same time

So far from truth in a room that I used to share with you

Filled with cat hair and tobacco fumes

We both live in the same tomb

You come to me in my sleep and even though I know it’s just a dream

You convinced me that you’re still ugly

Do you still love me?

And I said awful things like a fool that knew not what to do

But even the biggest fool could tell you I still loved you

Could tell you I still loved you