Текст: Jenny Owen Youngs. Last Person.

Where you?re sitting on the barstool
Keeping motionless as you can be
You?re thinking maybe if you?re lucky
Life is like T-Rex and stillness will sweep you away to where it stays
Cause you?re feeling like the last person left on the planet tonight
And your scanning the horizon seeking out signs of life
And you pray that you?re wrong but you?re right
So hold on tight
Cause all that stares back at you is bloodless zombie eyes
Why don?t you come home with me tonight, alright?
I?m not trying to make you think that this is some kind of great big deal
I just know exactly how you feel
I could be the thing you reach for in the middle of night
Maybe be the one who treats you right
Let me be the one who treats you right
Now you know never seen me
There?s no reason for you to pay mind
But I?m asking very nicely and all it takes is one step to start leaving the dead behind
And to try out walking life
And what?s the worst thing that could happen
We find out that we don?t quite fit
On the flipside we could be just right
And sure there?s a chance that we both end up broken and split
But that?s my kind of risk
So quit worrying where they fall if you should roll the dice
Why don?t you come home with me tonight, alright
Not trying to make you think that this is some kind of great big deal
I just know exactly how you feel
I could be the thing you reach for in the middle of night
Maybe be the one who treats you right
Let me be the one who treats you right