It hadn抰 been a day when everything had turned out right br /> 
She called me up and asked me to come over in the night, 
To make her cups of tea and listen quietly as she starts 
To list the latest list of bastards who have trampled on her heart. 
I see her in the nightclubs, 
I see her in the bars, 
At rooftop after-parties, or crammed into friendscars, 
And we talk about the weather, and how she drowns her pain in drink, 
And I nod and never ever dare to tell her what 
I think. She summers by my seas 
But winters without me, 
And she cries into her tea 
That she抯 secretly lonely. 
And oh me, what am 
I to do? It抯 obvious to me, 
But she never seems to see 
That it抯 not about the days when everything has turned out right, 
No it抯 more about the moments when she calls me in the night 
To make her cups of tea and wash the weary worries from her head 
And then to draw the pain out slowly as 
I put her into bed. 
And I slip this information 
Into all our conversations 
But she never seems to listen 
And she never seems to see.