But remember when you were my boat and I was your sea, together we’d float so delicately but that was back when we could talk about anything.
I don’t know who I am when you’re running circles in my head, and I don’t know just who you are, when you’re sleeping in someone else’s bed.
Three whole words and eight letters late, yesterday.
We are not the same. I wish that could change. I say your name and in the same breath, I say something that I’ll grow to regret. So keep your hand on your chest and sing with me, that we don’t want to believe.
You me at six
