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I check that I've got all my things before I leave the house, |
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Because when I'm gone I'm never coming back. |
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I'm not being melodramatic, it's just I neither have your number or a key. |
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An evening spent pretending that we're just becoming friends, |
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Or this goes any further than going back; |
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I'm not being pessimistic, it's just you and I were never meant to be. |
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It isn't love, but every time I kind of wish it was. |
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I've picked up this silly habit in the last few years of going out |
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In the evening with my friends into the town, |
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Of packing a spare T-shirt in my bag in case I do not make it home. |
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It's pathetic and I know it, but the truth is there've been mornings |
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I've proved prudent taking toothpaste to the pub. |
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But that's precious little comfort against the knowledge of the person I've become. |
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It isn't love, but every time I kind of wish it was, |
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And I can see that in your eyes you wish it was, |
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But every time I leave you just because |
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It isn't love. |
