I'll get used to not finding you
|
I'll get used to turning around and you won't be there
|
I'll get used to not thinking about you
|
hardly ever, hardly ever, hardly ever
|
I hope you got it all
|
you will have left me some photographs
|
and you will have placed it there on the bed
|
to remind me
|
that you will still smile,
|
ah but away
|
but as if it were to be known
|
who is right
|
or we should get hurt, badly.
|
I'll get used to not finding you
|
I'll get used to turning around and you won't be there
|
I'll get used to not thinking about you
|
hardly ever, hardly ever, hardly ever.
|
I hope it's all over
|
and never wear your face here again
|
for the rest I will go
|
like crazy
|
another woman and then
|
and then you will see that it will pass.
|
But it is as if it were to know who is right
|
or we should get hurt, badly.
|
I'll get used to not finding you
|
I got used to turning around and you won't be there
|
I'll get used to not thinking about you
|
hardly ever, hardly ever, hardly ever
|
I'll get used to not finding you
|
I'll get used to turning around and you won't be there
|
I'll get used to not thinking about you.
|
I'll get used to it
|
almost never, almost never
|
I'll get used to not finding you
|
I'll get used to turning around and there won't be
|
I'll get used to not turning around
|
I'll get used to it
|
hardly ever, hardly ever, hardly ever |