Sangtekst: David Mead. Comfort.

We're talking trash again like long sedated lovers
Baby what's become of us
A latent memory of southern springs and summers
Maybe winter in New York

It's started raining now on all my best intentions
I'm putting on my heavy coat
I'll take an airplane and leave the worst unmentioned
Blame it on a lack of time

When I was given to easy answers
I swept you off your feet
But now the dancing days are gone
You sleep alone, leave the radio on

I'm high above it now the clouds a pillow for me
I consider even more
You have the softest eyes, the grace to wash and comfort
All the kids on Jersey Shore

And I believe in easy answers
Coming home for Christmas
Minding manners all along
I sleep alone, leave the radio on

Yeah I believe in easy answers
Something permanent
But only chances make the song
We sleep alone with the radio on
We sleep alone with the radio on