The Cure - Alone

This is the end of every song that we sing
The fire burned out to ash and
The stars grown dim with tears
Cold and afraid
The ghosts of all that we’ve been
We toast, with bitter dregs, to our emptiness
And the birds falling out of our skies
And the words falling out of our minds
And here is to love, so much love
Falling out of our lives
Hopes and dreams are gone
The end of every song