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I want to cut off all my hair |
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And go out walkin' in the cold |
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Carve myself a new hole |
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And talk just like before |
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I want to starve myself of blankets |
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And sleep here on the floor |
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Oh god don't let this be love |
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Stop calling me your lover |
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We'll stop talking on the phone |
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'Cause such a pretty voice |
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Just makes me miss the dial tone |
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So I'm gonna rip out my own heart |
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Who so clearly has betrayed |
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My quest for being lonely and my |
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Promise of the same |
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Well if I had a choice |
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And I'm only partly sure I do |
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I'd pack up all my things and I'd |
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Leave town and I'd leave you |
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Take up a residence |
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Just off the coast and |
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Drown a year or two |
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Oh god don't let this be love |
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|
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And if winter fell upon you |
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Well I'd be outside in the cold |
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Not thinkin' about your red hat |
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No not missin' you at all |
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I'd light up a new bad habit |
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Start talking in the night |
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If I ever thought of you I'd say |
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Well I still think I was right |
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So the bird at my new window |
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Soon be outside my new door |
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Askin' me for flowers |
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And of what had come before |
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And I try my best to tell her |
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That I ain't never been in love |
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But god I ain't so sure |
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So I took to writing postcards |
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Send greetings from the coast |
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It's a shame I lost your address |
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'Cause I'm sure by now you've moved |
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Now I'll never get the chance to see |
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Your new home up in flames |
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Well if I had a match then you'd be |
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Certain that would change |
