Maybe it’s the last one through
Done done done with what I do
Come look up my empty sleeve
Maybe it’s the great reprieve
I grimace instead of cry
I hover instead of write
Take walks on the west side
Long talks on the phone at night

Maybe this is the last one, honey
Maybe this is the last one
Maybe this is the last one, honey
Maybe this is the last one

A long walk from my bed to the floor
A long drop from my train to the door
So many songs, since my heart cracked
Fell in deep, I won’t get th em back

I’ll be gone to ashes
In Brooklyn, Sierra Nevada
A dream as common as winter snow
What if I just let it go

Maybe this is the last one, honey
Maybe this is the last one
Maybe this is the last one, honey
Maybe this is the last one

So I count the things that work
Make lists in a little book
Force myself to count to ten
Force myself to start again
Done done done with this and that
Music, tales, tit for tat
Done with giving up a fight
For what might come or what might fly

Maybe this is the last one, honey
Maybe this is the last one
Maybe this is the last one, honey
Maybe this is the last one