it always makes me warm like sweaters in december, the words pour out of me... "i can't believe you're gone". sometimes i'd like to go to a place, where no one knows my name. the frost has found a home, underneath the bitter cold, along the river's edge. i watch the reruns of my life, like make believe i just pretend i'm fine. i slowly fall asleep to the sound of yesterday, for now i know that things won't be alright. sometimes i'd like to go to a place, where no one knows my name. the frost has found a home, underneath the bitter cold, along the river's edge. this is the part of me that i don't like