I wish to sleep but not wake Ezra Bell

I look at our road
And its disrepair
The feelings I look for
Are no longer there

There's a man in Toledo
Whom laughs at my jokes
Little John just starts crying
And pass me the smokes

For this, my dear, is goodbye
For this, my dear, is goodbye

Now you keep the cat
And I'll take the car
But those three nights in London
That we spent in pure bliss
Well, those ones, will always be ours

The feel of your fingers
The taste of your spit
But what good would it do
If we just wander 'round clenching our fists?

For this, my dear, is goodbye
This, my dear, is goodbye