Texty: Ryan Adams. Burning Photographs.

I finally see the light
Down on the east side, wasted like a memory
If I had a car I'd drive
Straight off the bridge into the river, it would empty me

Pretty pictures in a magazine
Everybody is so make believe, it's true
I used to be sad now I'm just bored with you

You're doomed to repeat the past
And nothing is gonna last
I burn all your photographs

Traffic sings the songs
Inviting me into dodging bullets from an empty gun
If I had a car I'd drive
Straight into the window of a bank I owed money to

Pretty pictures in a magazine
Everybody is so make believe, it's true
I used to be sad now I'm just bored with you

You're doomed to repeat the past
And nothing is gonna last
I burn all your photographs
You're doomed to repeat the past
And nothing is gonna last
I burn all your photographs

And all the time you're so unhappy
And everything to you is so heavy
And oh my word ain't you so pretty, now
There's nothing to make up, now
No one to wake up, now
She's starting to break up, wow

Pretty pictures in a magazine
Everybody is so make believe, it's true
I used to be sad now I'm just bored with you

You're doomed to repeat the past
Cause nothing is gonna last
I burned all your photographs
You're doomed to repeat the past
Cause nothing is gonna last
I burn all your photographs