I am, just for a moment, carefully spoken, broken
Wearing what I just woke up in.
I end without a warning, reasonably worn out.
I got the sense that you won't be too miserable.
And everybody knows
It aches the heart to go on
And so often I'll knit
A pattern taken from the thirteenth level
Stuck in bubble bobble again.
You'll ask whether I'm mad.
I'm better at acting sad,
But I'll refrain I rarely strain my voice,
But now that you've taken all of the other waking
Hours ahead of it out, forget it
And everybody sews,
But it takes a girl with know-how
To know how to plow through
An autumn-colored scene depicting
You and me careening on a see-saw
But now that you've shown disinterest in the thought
I've taken that it's not
What I've sewn that's driven you to leave
It's got to do with me.
I can, just for a moment, see if it's torn or not
And if it is then you might as well stood the chance
Walking at night, drinking again,
Sulking at sight of your girlfriend.
Loiter and sigh, needle in hand,
Embroidering myself as planned but
Stranded across an empty seat.
Since you've shown disinterest in the thought
I've taken that it's not
What I've sewn that's driven you to leave.
It's making me believe
That what you've done to me
Has got to do with me.
I am, just for a moment, carefully spoken, broken Wearing what I just woke up in. I end without a warning, reasonably worn out. I got the sense that you won't be too miserable.
And everybody knows It aches the heart to go on And so often I'll knit A pattern taken from the thirteenth level Stuck in bubble bobble again.
You'll ask whether I'm mad. I'm better at acting sad, But I'll refrain I rarely strain my voice, But now that you've taken all of the other waking Hours ahead of it out, forget it
And everybody sews, But it takes a girl with know-how To know how to plow through An autumn-colored scene depicting You and me careening on a see-saw
But now that you've shown disinterest in the thought I've taken that it's not What I've sewn that's driven you to leave It's got to do with me.
I can, just for a moment, see if it's torn or not And if it is then you might as well stood the chance
Walking at night, drinking again, Sulking at sight of your girlfriend. Loiter and sigh, needle in hand, Embroidering myself as planned but Stranded across an empty seat. Since you've shown disinterest in the thought I've taken that it's not What I've sewn that's driven you to leave. It's making me believe That what you've done to me Has got to do with me.