| It’s stay-up sleepy time again
|
| Am I supposed to trust in you?
|
| And as the clock strikes 2 am
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| I toss and turn with what to
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| Do or to say when you come home
|
| Or if it really matters
|
| So what if your hair smells like cologne?
|
| We know you’ve done it all before
|
| I saw your careful thoughts collide the day you told me everything
|
| Beneath the guilt you wore a pride in what you felt was honesty
|
| But you weren’t counting the lies
|
| Three months of silence had to bring
|
| I can forgive
|
| Don’t look surprised
|
| I only ask one little thing
|
| Forget his mouth
|
| Forget his eyes
|
| Forget a thousand little lies
|
| Forget you ever had a choice
|
| Forget his name
|
| Forget his voice
|
| I never claimed that I was perfect
|
| I suppose it was implied
|
| So were you driven to his arms by my imperfect sense of pride?
|
| Or perhaps something you read
|
| Or the way I made love to you desperately, desolately
|
| I guess that you were desperate too
|
| I always loved the things in you that I could never be
|
| But there must be a side of you I wasn’t meant to see
|
| Show me
|
| Though my heart should be barren
|
| Still my love for you grows
|
| Like the weeds that destroy the flowers |