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I nearly thought that maybe she |
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Could be the one to set me free. |
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I went and fell again - |
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There's just something about her, I guess. |
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I wonder, did she know? |
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I wonder, did it show? |
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And now she's gone again, |
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Seems we're not meant to be friends. |
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And now she's gone again. |
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And now she's gone again. |
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Watching headlights far away, |
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Aching at the close of the day, |
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Walking and wishing she |
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Were sharing the evening with me. |
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And I recall silently not sleeping. |
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And I recall her wet hair in the morning. |
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And I recall the distance I was keeping. |
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And I recall a birthday kiss she gave me, |
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Two journeys to her flat when it was just me, |
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And, in her car, to the radio her singing. |
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I recall the attention I was paying. |
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I wanted friendship, wanted closeness - |
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Around her I was hopeless. |
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I'd catch myself and feel a fool - |
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It's such a different world in which she moves. |
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I wonder, did she know? |
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I wonder, did it show? |
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I wonder, did it show? |
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And now she's gone again, |
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Seems we're not meant to be friends, |
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And memories like these, they're what I have left - |
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Memories that, stupidly, I never will forget. |
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Memories like these: a birthday card somewhere; |
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I could tell she was awake, |
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She wanted, too, to break the silence - |
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If we'd have talked into the night, |
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Would that have made a difference? |
