You said Come with me But I did not go I thought our love would hold us though Through all the years and all the tears surely this was the stuff, the glue, that would bind. But I would learn that ours was not the permanent kind ours was weak ours was flawed words too precious to speak emotions brimming, withheld. Until the pot boiled over, steamin and words shot out like a cannon, I wasn't dreamin Cause nightmares wouldn't have pierced that deep Bad dreams end when we're not asleep. I'm as wide awake As I'm gonna get... Isn't it over yet? Isn't it over yet? Absence does not make the heart grow fonder. It just makes a weak heart turn stone cold.