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[00:-02.00]Ben Folds - Before Cologne

Here in Cologne,
I know I said it wrong,
I walked you to the train,
And back across alone,
To my hotel room,
And ordered me some food,
And now I'm wondering,
Why the floor has suddenly become a moving target.
Four, three, two, one,
I'm letting you go.
I will let go,
If you will let go.
(Four, three, two)

Says here an astronaut,
Put on a pair of diapers,
Drove eighteen hours,
To kill her boyfriend,
And in my hotel room
I'm wondering,
If you read that story too,
And if we both might,
Be having the same imaginary conversation.
Four, three, two, one,
I'm letting you go.
I will let go,
If you will let go.
(Four, three, two)

Weightless as I close my eyes.

The ceiling opens in disguise.

Such a painful trip,
To find out this is it,
And when I go to sleep,
You'll be waking up.
Four, three, two, one,
I'm letting you go.
I will let go,
If you will let go.