She listens to his words at five past one, crackles down the telephone |
She listens to his words at five past one, Crackles down the telephone. It's after dark, The lights are out. All except her own. Resident cynic slides bitter words. Doesn't want to hear the lies. Black and white, Her icons are watching. Curled up in bed there's no where to hide. S'ok she's talking to him again. What the hell he's being nice? She thinks of his letter. Thinks of his words. Does she want to be friends? Just friends? Wanting to dance she whispers the words, Let's go. Let's fly. This is our Romance. What a twisted romance. Not going to lie, she says it hurt, Tells him not to do it again. Says she loves him, loved him. Knows he will. So goodnight my friend. Just friends? Wanting to dance she whispers the words. Let's go. Let's fly. This is our Romance. What a twisted romance. "What are you thinking?" It's now half past. They'll keep talking as light steals dark. His insomnia's talking and he's afraid of his dreams. She'd tired but not wanting to sleep. Oh the black and white icons are still awake though I'm not. "I can't hurt you for my sake." Wanting to dance she whispers the words... Let's go. Let's fly? This was a Romance that was destined to die. |