Sixpence None The Richer

The lines of my earth, so brittle, unfertile, and ready to die
I need a drink, but the well has run dry
And we in the habit of saying the same things all over again
For the money we shall make
This is the last song that I write
'Til you tell me otherwise
And it's because I just don't feel it
This is the last song
'Til you tell me other wise
And it's because I just don't feel it anymore
It should be our time