| You lived down the block
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| We met for the first time at the bus stop
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| We sat side by side
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| Third seat from the back, we talked the whole ride
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| Six years later you bought your first car
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| And you told me to wait outside
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| Then you pulled up and somebody else
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| Was sitting in the passenger side
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| So I sat in the backseat, it didn’t bother me
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| But after five weeks of sitting in silence behind her
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| While you talked of movies I’ve never seen
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| I realized that’s how we used to be
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| But now my best friend is the driver
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| And I’m the backseat rider
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| Maybe it’s my fault
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| Spent summer break away and forgot to call
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| Or maybe you forgot
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| Around this time last summer we sat in the parking lot
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| And you told me when you got your first car
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| That you and I would go for a drive
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| But now we’re here and somebody else
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| Is sitting in the passenger side
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| So I sat in the backseat, it didn’t bother me
|
| But after five weeks of sitting in silence behind her
|
| While you talked of movies I’ve never seen
|
| I realized that’s how we used to be
|
| But now my best friend is the driver
|
| And I’m the backseat rider
|
| I gave you back the clothes that you used to borrow
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| You dropped me off at home, said you’ll see me tomorrow
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| And I sit in the backseat, it didn’t bother me
|
| But after five weeks of sitting in silence behind her
|
| While you talked of movies I’ve never seen
|
| I realized that’s how we used to be
|
| But now my best friend is the driver
|
| And I’m the backseat rider
|
| I gave you back the clothes that you used to borrow
|
| You dropped me off at home, said you’ll see me tomorrow |