We once looked alike.
Same face and same hair.
She was my almost-twin, my best friend.

The face remains the same but we are not.
She's going down a road I can't follow.
She's boarding a plane without me.
I packed my bags because she packed hers.
But I lost my ticket, turned away at the gate.

She's going down a road I can't follow.
We're all alone at the end.